#emfic

You lift a brow, struggling not to grin. “And they nominated you?”

He smirks a little. “Dustin’s mom loves me.”

“Uh huh, I bet.” He's weirdly popular with moms, even your own. You'd think the whole metalhead thing would be a turn off, but they seem to like it.

It works for you, so maybe you shouldn't be that surprised.

“Look, Nancy and Steve are going, but I don’t wanna third wheel it. They’ll be makin’ goo goo eyes at each other all night.” He rolls his own eyes, then gives you puppy face. “Pllleaaase? I’ll be your best friend!”

“You’re already my best friend, doofus.” You sigh. “But fine. I’ll go. Anything to get out of a weekend with my parents’ passive-aggressive bullshit.”

“Fuck yeah!” He lifts your hand so he can high five you (you’re known to leave him hanging) and spends a few seconds jumping around before he comes back to you. “Okay, so, Saturday morning we’re meeting at the lake and then hiking to the campsite. It’s not too far, but far enough to feel like the wilderness. Should I pick you up?”

“Sure,” you say, amused by his excitement. “Anything special I should bring? Besides the obvious.”

“Junk food.”

“You don’t have that covered?”

He shrugs. “I’ll bring some stuff, but I like the way your mind works, snack-wise. That snack mix you brought at Christmas? Blew my fucking mind.”

“My aunt makes that, so I won’t be bringing it, but I’ll come with something good. Now we both have class, and you can’t cut again. I’ll see you after for Hellfire.” You say your goodbyes and head to class.

Maybe camping with Eddie Munson and a band of young miscreants isn't a great idea. The kids you're not worried about, but Eddie? Alone in the dark woods with Eddie? Okay, not alone, but...

What if Nancy and Steve decide to share a tent? Will you be sharing with Eddie? Maybe it's a sign: this is the time to finally make your move. You can roll over in your little shared tent and kiss him and slide your hand down his shorts and—okay, whoa, you're at school. Save thoughts like that for tonight, in bed, by yourself.

Today, math class. Saturday, possibly finally making a move on your best friend.

Eddie picks you up bright and early Saturday morning, and he's more or less dressed for hiking: that is, boots instead of his usual Reeboks, and his long hair is pulled back with one of his many bandanas. He also left his bigger rings at home, which makes him look almost naked.

"Hey!" he says. "Lookin' good, Camper Bob!"

You roll your eyes. "Such a dweeb," you say, but with affection. You're wearing a t shirt and jean shorts, plus hiking boots and a jean jacket. It'll be much cooler tonight, but for now it's warm, and hiking in jeans is always a mistake.

He helps you stow your pack in the back, then you hop in and you're off.

Everyone's already at the lake when you get there, and it's chaos. How can so few people make so much noise?! You give Eddie a Look, and he wades in.

"Alright, alright! Pay attention! Boy Scout Steve is leading this dog and pony show, so listen to him and don't be little shits! We're here to enjoy nature, and you can't do that if you can't keep the volume below a dull roar. So shut the fuck up for 5 minutes and look around!"

You muffle a giggle behind your hand and share a grin with Nancy. Steve is rolling his eyes and grimacing, but he loves this shit. He takes his place at the front of the group and gets everyone organized for the hike. Finally, after what feels like forever, you set off into the woods.

You hike until mid-afternoon, and by the time you stop everyone's tired and cranky. Steve gets people setting up tents and digging pits for fires while you, Eddie, and Nancy organize the food. There are enough hot dogs to feed an army, plenty of chips, baked beans (gross), and...

"Fuck yeah, s'mores!" Eddie says.

"Thought you'd like that," you say. You add another bag of marshmallows to the pile and his grin widens.

"You know, that'll go perfectly with this," he says and pulls a baggie from his jacket pocket.

Nancy's eyes widen a little. "We can't give that to the kids!"

Eddie makes a face. "I don't give kids drugs, Nance. It's for us! The more-or-less grownups."

"I'm in," you say with a shrug. "I need it after today."

"Knew I could count on you, pumpkin patch."

The two of you have this old running joke in your friendship: you are firm in your belief that he's actually a human Muppet, and nickname him accordingly. As a sort of payback (he has a rep to maintain, and "human Muppet" is not it) he comes up with the weirdest, most random shit he can think of to call you. This is a new one.

"What does that mean?" you say.

He shrugs and stuffs the bag away. "I dunno. It's fall. Pumpkins. It made sense in my head!"

"Weird things make sense in your head, Grove."

"That's the truth," he says with an unbothered grin. "Lemme go help Steve with the fire."

It's dark. Everyone's fed. The kids are around the fire telling scary stories. Eddie gives you a subtle nod and the four of you wander off to sample his product.

"This is probably a terrible idea," Steve says as he puffs and coughs, then passes the joint to Nancy. "We're responsible for these kids!"

"They're 14, Steve, not 6," Nancy says. She takes a delicate puff before handing it to you.

"They seem pretty good at handling themselves," Eddie says. The night's turned chilly, especially away from the fire, and he has his arm thrown around you in easy camaraderie. He's gained a little weight recently; still skinny, but not a rail; and it looks good on him. Feels good too, you note as you lean into him.

He takes the joint from you and inhales deeply before handing it off to Steve. He nuzzles your hair. It smells like wood smoke and leaves and under that, your usual shampoo. He tries to keep his eyes off your bare legs, but it's a struggle. "Not so bad, huh? Camping?"

You look up at him with a little smile. "I could learn to like it. Maybe."

You continue passing the joint around until it's nearly gone. Eddie carefully puts it out and adds it to the Sucrets tin he carries, then you head back toward the group. He grabs your hand and pulls you close. "C'mon, it's s'mores time," he says.

"Oh god I could murder a s'more!"

"Did someone say s'mores?" Dustin says.

"Grab sticks," Steve tells them. "It's time for marshmallows!"

He tosses the bags to Nancy and they all scatter to find roasting sticks. Soon you're back, stick in hand, eager for a roasted marshmallow-and-chocolate treat.

Nancy hands you a couple of marshmallows and you drop down onto a rock next to Eddie. "Burnt or bust," you tell him, and thrust your marshmallow-laden stick into the fire.

He laughs and does the same. Your marshmallows catch fire at the same time and you quickly pull yours out to blow out the flame. It's black and brown on the outside, oozy on the inside, and when you smash it between the chocolate and graham cracker, it goes everywhere.

"Oop!" You hastily lick trailing bits of marshmallow off your fingers and down your wrist, and when you look up Eddie's eyeing you, his own stick forgotten in his hand. "What?" you say.

"Nothing." He dips his head back to assembling his s'more. "Nope, nothing at all."

You lift a brow. That was...interesting. You aren't blind: you know Eddie checks you out from time to time. Or at least you hope so, but sometimes you think it's just wishful thinking. That clearly wasn't. Apparently sucking sticky sweet mess off your fingers is the way to his heart. Or at least his boner.

You squish your s'more together and take a bite, and of course chocolate smears on your lips and all over your fingers. You make a little noise of protest and start to suck your fingers clean again, and when you look over Eddie once again can't take his eyes off of you.

"Munson," you say with a little grin. "Are you going to stare or help?"

"Help?" he says, his voice breaking a little. "Help with what?"

"The mess I'm making. And look!" You point at his little marshmallow sandwich. Chocolate is dripping onto the back of his hand. "Silly," you say. You lean in and carefully lick the chocolate off his skin.

He freezes. You licked him. With your tongue. Now you're sucking more chocolate and marshmallow of your hands and fingers, all while looking right at him. Marshmallow. Long, melted strings of white that ooze just like—

No! Nope. No. He is NOT going to think of you and come in the same sentence. Your little pink tongue darting out over your full pink lips, licking the white off with a happy noise that he feels right in the cock.

He carefully sets his own uneaten s'more aside and grabs you. "C'mere," he says, voice rough.

"Eddie—!"

He pulls you into the woods, away from the noise of the kids and the heat of the fire, and pushes you against a tree. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and he looks down with a frown of concentration between his brows.

"You're kinda evil," he says.

"What the hell are you doing?" you breathe. Your heart is pounding, your cheeks flushed, and you still have marshmallow and chocolate on your fingers.

As though reading your mind, he grabs one of your hands and carefully sucks a finger into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, licking and sucking every bit of sweet off your skin, and you feel your knees go weak. You let out a soft moan and lean against the tree to support you.

He does the same thing to each finger and even your thumb, and by the time he's through you're panting and squirming. He rubs his thumb across your lower lip, tugging it a bit, and smiles at you. "Maybe I should get you back to camp," he murmurs. "You look a little...out of it."

"Oh shut up," you breathe. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a kiss.

His hand slips around to the small of your back while the other grips your bare thigh below your shorts. Your arms go around his neck and you're biting and sucking his full, gorgeous lips. "Eddie," you breathe. "Is this why you brought me camping?"

"What, to make out in the woods?" He shrugs a little. "No, but it's a really nice bonus."

You laugh as he kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and swirling against yours. He presses his hips into you and you slide your knee up against his thighs.

"Mmmm what's that?" you whisper. "A roasting stick in your pocket?"

"Not exactly," he says. He rocks against you just right, so that the bulge of his erection rubs you through all your layers of clothing. You bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper and he kisses you again, harder. "Goddamn I've wanted you forever, baby. To touch you and taste you and make you moan my name."

He rubs his thumb over your lip again. You're looking up at him with big, dazed eyes, pupils blown and mouth soft and swollen. He slowly reaches down to unzip your shorts. "You can stop me," he says.

You shake your head. "Don't stop, Eddie," you breathe. "I've wanted you too. I never—I was afraid to say anything, but—please?"

He kisses you hard and shoves your shorts down to your ankles. You kick them away as he drops to his knees and kisses your thighs. He bites. Sucks. You bury both hands in his hair and try to keep breathing.

He kisses his way up your body, completely ignoring your panties, and pushes your shirt up. He tugs the cups of your bra down and spends ages licking and sucking your nipples. He switches back and forth between them until they're both swollen and aching and you're wiggling against the tree.

"Eddie, please!"

"Please what, princess?" he murmurs, lashing his tongue back and forth across your nipple while he squeezes your tits with both hands. "Tell me what you want."

"My pussy! Please!" you gasp. "I'm so wet! I need you!"

"Fuck!" he rasps. He kisses your tummy. "Whatever you need, baby." He grips your hips and kisses just above your panties. Your head falls back on a quiet moan, but the tree's closer than you thought.

"Ow!" you say, sharply.

"Babe?" He jumps to his feet, but it's too fast. He reaches out to grab you, but you're a little dizzy from smacking your head, and you both end up tumbling to the forest floor.

You lie there a moment sprawled out on top of him, shorts off, tits out, and then you start to giggle. He barks out a laugh and soon you're both laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You move a little, your legs falling to either side of his hips so that you're straddling him, and you're both still laughing and gasping.

You rock your hips, and the next breath he sucks in is entirely different. "Babe—"

"Shhh. I can feel you, Eddie. Mmmmm you're so hard for me!"

He gets over his surprise quickly and grabs your hips again, this time to guide you as you move. "Yeah, princess. All for you. I swear to god every erection I've had for the last two years has been for you." He laughs. "And there've been a lot of 'em."

"Mmmm bad boy," you breathe. You rest your hands on his chest and grind against his erection. The rough material of his jeans makes your panties slip and slide along your dripping slit just right.

"Fuck, baby, that feels so fucking good! Don't stop!"

You lean down to kiss him, changing the angle just right, and he rubs his hands over your ass. You love the feel of his guitar callouses, how soft his palms are. "Eddie!" you gasp against his mouth. "God, Eddie, I'm so wet!"

He groans. "For me, princess? Is that all for me?"

"Uh huh, every drop! Fuck, I need—!" You rock faster, grind against him harder. You can't believe you're just out in the woods humping Eddie Munson's erection through his jeans. You feel wanton and incredible and you know you're close.

"Take what you need, angel," he breathes. "Anything you need. You gonna come, baby?"

"Uh huh!" you whimper. "Oh god Eddie oh fuck!"

"Good girl, fuck, that's so hot, you're so fuckin' hot! Take it, baby, come for me!" he mumbles in your ear, his breath hot and his words slurred by his own need for you.

"Eddie!!" you cry, a little louder than you intended, and the orgasm takes you. He holds you down against him while he bucks his hips to drive you higher and higher.

"Good girl," he says, almost a moan. "Good girl!"

You finally start to come down from it and fall against his chest. He kisses your temple, runs his hands through your hair. You lift your head to give him a long, easy kiss. "Your turn," you murmur.

"Fuck!" he gasps, and you're just starting to work your way down when you hear a familiar voice echoing through the woods.

Calling your name. Then, "Eddie!"

Your eyes widen. "Oh fuck!" You scramble to your feet and cast around for your shorts. Your panties are soaked and sticking to you, but there's not much you can do about it.

Eddie jumps up as the voice gets closer and helps you fix your bra and top, tug your shorts on and zip them up. You're barely decent when the flashlights bob into view and Steve and Dustin appear in the little clearing.

"Shit, there you are," Steve says. "We thought you got lost."

"Nope!" you say. You run both hands through your mussed hair. "No, just ate a bit too much. Needed some fresh air away from the fire."

"Dude!" Dustin says. He has his light trained on Eddie's crotch. Luckily his erection has gone down, but... "Did you piss yourself?!" he says around barely-contained laughter.

"What?!" He glances down and sees the big wet spot you left on his jeans. You feel your face catch fire.

"You did! You pissed yourself! I gotta tell everybody!"

"I didn't piss myself, Henderson!" Eddie says. "I spilled my flask."

Dustin shines the light in Eddie's face, and he winces away from it. "You brought alcohol and drugs on a camping trip with minors? Edward Munson!"

"How did you know about the drugs?!" Eddie says.

Dustin shrugs. "I've got a nose, dude."

"Okay, okay," Steve says. "Let's get back. You feeling better?" he says to you.

You glance at Eddie. "Much!" you say. "Eddie?"

"Feelin' great," he mumbles. "Hate that I spilled my flask."

Dustin just rolls his eyes and turns back toward camp. You fall in next to him while Steve and Eddie bring up the rear.

Steve nudges him. "You really spill your flask?" he mutters.

"Left my flask at home," Eddie says. "But I had to think of somethin'!"

"Uh huh." Steve's trying not to laugh. "That you or her?"

Eddie doesn't say anything, just looks away with a shrug. "I don't kiss and tell, man. But." He frowns and carefully adjusts himself. "It ain't me."

Steve muffles a bark of laughter in the crook of his elbow. "Okay then. Nancy owes me ten bucks."

"What?!"

"We had a bet that you two would hook up on this trip. I said yeah, she said no. I knew I'd win."

"Jesus," Eddie says, but he's struggling not to grin. He got the girl! For once in his life. You glance back at him with a soft, pretty smile, and his grin breaks through.

You can't help but giggle at the random shit that comes out of Eddie's mouth sometimes. "Sorry about that," you say.

"Don't worry about it. Worth it." He grins at you, his dark eyes big and bright even in the low light. "Way worth it." He clears his throat and tucks his thumbs into his back pockets before changing his mind and playing with a lock of hair instead.

"Do you want to—maybe, if you’re into it, no pressure—meet up later?" he mumbles.

"Like when later?"

He drags the bit of hair over his mouth. "Umm...maybe after everyone's gone to bed? Meet up here, then...go somewhere else?"

"Yeah, Grove. I'd like that." You lean in and lower your voice. "I wasn't done with you."

His cheeks turn pink and he fights a grin. "I wasn't done with you either, princess."

"Good," you say. "Later, then."

"Uh huh. Later." He stumbles a little as he prances away, but he rights himself and offers a wave to let you know he's okay. Jesus he's so cute. Bambi on ice like 80% of the time, at least.

You and Nancy are sharing a tent, but you know she wants to sneak off to Steve and Eddie's tent...and you want to sneak off with Eddie, so really it all works out. She gives you a knowing grin as you don't bother taking off your boots when you crawl inside.

"Meeting Eddie later?" she whispers.

You blush and fiddle with your boot laces. "Mhmm. We sort of got interrupted earlier."

"Uh huh, Steve mentioned that. Just be careful, okay? You don't want to get lost out there."

You nod. "Eddie seems like he knows these woods pretty well, and there's always Boy Scout Steve if we get too turned around."

"I think the kids are pretty much asleep if you want to go now," she says. "Don't forget the flashlight."

You grab it and crawl out. "Thanks, Nance," you whisper as she zips the flaps shut behind you.

The fire is banked for the night, but there's a nearly full moon, so you're able to make it to the picnic table without much trouble. You sit on the bench to wait, and before long Eddie appears. He smiles and presses a finger to his lips, then takes your hand to lead you into the woods.

He has a battery-powered lantern, but he keeps it off until you're far enough away it won't be noticed. He stops every now and then to tie bright orange streamers to trees. You poke his arm and point at one with a questioning gesture.

"Steve," he whispers. "Good ol' Boy Scout Steve. He gave them to me so we wouldn't get lost."

"What a thoughtful boy," you say.

"Uh huh."

You hike for a bit longer, until you reach a clearing bright from the full moon. He grins over his shoulder at you and spreads out the blanket he brought. "Wanna sit?" he says.

You drop down next to him with a smile. "So," you say. "What's on your mind tonight, Munson?"

"Hm?" He looks up from where he's fiddling with the lantern and quickly looks away again. "Oh, you know. Nothing. Just, uh. Just thought we could come hang out. You know, away from all the...everybody."

He clears his throat and settles down on the blanket, but he has his lighter in one hand and is flipping it over and over. He won't look at you.

"Grove?" you say, nudging him a little. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yep, sure, everything's—everything's great. Um." He pushes to his feet and wanders away. Being so close to you is making his brain scramble. You smell so good, wood smoke and sweetness, and you're so warm and soft. There's a fire burning low in his belly, and every time he looks at you it just gets hotter.

"A little chilly out here, huh? Shoulda brought another blanket. Shit. Don't want you to be cold. We could go back if you—oh. Hi."

You've moved to stand in front of him, and with his nervous pacing he didn't hear you. You take his hand in yours and lead him back to the blanket. "Let's just sit," you say. "We don't have to do anything. It's just us, Grover. You and me, same as always."

"Riiiight," he says, doubtfully. "Except I've had my mouth on your nipples now."

"True. Does that make things different?"

"Um." He rubs a hand over his lips and his eyes dart down to your chest, then back up to your face. "Maybe a little. But only because I wanna do it again."

You smile. "I'd like you to do it again. But it can wait. Hey, do you still have that baggie?"

"Ohhh yeah good call." He fishes the baggie out of his pocket and grabs one of the joints. "Too bad we didn't bring any marshmallows."

"I think we'll live. If I get the munchies I'll just nibble on you."

Even in the low light you can see how his cheeks flush at that. He ducks his head to light the joint and takes a slow, deep drag before passing it to you. "Have you always been this evil?" he says on the exhale.

You shrug and take a pull. "Probably. I just keep it hidden most of the time."

He settles down with one knee pulled up, his arm draped over it. You lean against his other side and tangle your free arm with his.

"I kinda like it," he says after a contemplative silence. "I like..." He cuts his eyes your way, then back out toward the trees. He shifts his ass a little. "I like...hanging out with you."

"Mmm," you say. "I like hanging out with you too." You finish off the joint and pass him the roach to store away, then rest your head on his shoulder. Your voice softens. "I like what happened earlier."

He tucks the Sucrets tin away. "I liked it too." He's quiet, fiddling with the laces on his boots before he undoes them and sets them aside. When he comes back he lets his hand wander until his arm is around you and you're pressed against his chest. His eyes are on the stars as he wrestles with what to say. He wants you to know how much you mean to him, how much he cares about you.

He clears his throat and turns his head to press a soft kiss to the top of your head and take a deep breath of your sweet scent.

"I just, um—I don't want you to think that I—that that's all I want now. Just, you know. Dirty stuff."

You tilt your chin back to look at him, then kiss his jaw. "I know you don't. I don't either. But I'll tell you a secret."

"Hmm?" he says, angling his head so he can see your face.

You grin at him. "I like the dirty stuff," you whisper.

His mouth curves in a bashful grin. "Yeah?" He runs his finger over your lips. "You mean with me, or in general?"

You catch his finger between your teeth and swirl your tongue around it. His breath catches and his eyes go wide. "With you," you murmur. "Just you, Grove."

"Fuck," he says on a rough exhale. His hand buries itself in your hair and he drags you up to kiss you. You respond with a little whimper, kissing him back desperately, and he slowly pushes you back onto the blanket.

"Want you, princess," he breathes between hot, hungry kisses. "Wanna take such good care of you. Make you feel so good."

"Mmmm it's my turn!" you say. You push at his shoulder until he rolls over, and you pounce on top of him. He lets out a surprised, breathless laugh that turns to a quiet moan when you bite the spot where the pulse pounds in his neck. You swirl your tongue against the spot and reach down to tug at his shirt.

His back arches enough to get it off, and then you're working your way down, kissing and biting and sucking. "Marks?" you ask.

He gives a quick, desperate nod. "Please! Mark me all up, baby!" He wants to be marked, wants to look in the mirror tomorrow and see you all over him. He wants to remember how hungry you were for him, how you wanted him as much as he wants you.

You smirk and do as he's begging. You bite harder. Suck longer. You kiss and lick every mark you leave, and soon you've made your way down to his soft tummy and the delicate line that leads down from his bellybutton.

"Can I take these off?" you say as you hook your finger in the waistband of his jeans.

He swallows. His heart is pounding so hard he can barely think. "Yeah, babe. Please."

You undo the button, then slowly unzip them before tugging them down to his ankles. You sit back on your knees to study him: shirt off, jeans around his ankles, cock big in his blue boxers.

"Such a slutty boy," you say with a little grin. You run your fingers along his erection. "Is this for me?"

He whimpers, hips bucking a little. "Yeah, fuck, all yours!"

"Mmmmm." You lean down to bite his tummy and pull his boxers off. His cock springs free and you lick your lips at the sight of it: thick and hard and so pink, even in the low light. "So pretty," you murmur. You wrap your hand around it and rub your thumb across the head. "Of course such a pretty boy has a pretty cock."

"You think—you think I'm pretty?"

You look up at him with his big eyes, flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips. "I think you're the prettiest boy I've ever seen," you say. You kiss the tip of his cock and suck it into your mouth.

He makes a rough, high-pitched noise and grips the blanket for dear life. "Fuck, babe! Please!"

"Please what, baby boy? Use your words."

He whines through clenched teeth. "Need your mouth, princess! Suck my cock, please!"

You shiver and clench your thighs together at the rush of wet heat in your cunt. "Gonna, sweet boy. You sound so pretty begging like that." You suck him into your mouth, deep, and he groans.

You wanted to tease him, make this really last, but you're so goddamn wet and your pussy is throbbing so hard you don't have the patience. Instead you suck him like your life depends on it, rough and sloppy and hungry.

He loves every second of it. "Fuck, princess, oh fuck! Fuckin A don't stop, don't stop, just like that!!"

Your head bobs as his cock fills your mouth, the flared head presses into your throat. You gag, pull out, and repeat. Drool drips down his shaft and onto his balls, and you wrap one hand around the base and the other around his sack. You squeeze, just a little, and at the noise he makes you do it again.

You pop off and smirk at him, at his flushed cheeks and messy hair and slack mouth. "Dirty boy. Look at this hard, leaky cock! I bet you want to come, don't you?"

He makes an incoherent, wrecked noise and manages to nod, then shakes his head. "Whatever you want, baby! I'm yours. Cock's yours!"

"Mmmm." You lick your swollen lips. "That's right. What a good boy." You stroke him slowly, enjoying the thick, hot feel of him in your hand. Your thumb rubs along the underside, presses against the spot where the shaft meets the head, then strokes over the pink tip. You swirl it through the pre-come gathered there, then bring your thumb to your mouth to lick it clean.

He watches you with a dazed expression, then his head falls back on a groan. "Please! Need more, fuck, please!"

"Since you asked so nicely," you say and dip your head to flick your tongue against him. He twitches, so you do it again. You're still stroking his shaft and playing with his balls, and now when you suck him into your mouth his hips stutter and jerk and you almost choke on him.

"Fuck! Fuck, baby, sorry!" he gasps.

You shake your head to tell him it's okay and keep going. As you suck you press your thumb against his perineum and stroke in firm, steady circles. That takes him to the next level.

"Gonna come, princess, fuck fuck that's so fuckin' good so—goddamn—FUCK!" He lets out a long, ragged moan and his come fills your mouth, hot and thick and salty. You swallow as much as you can in eager gulps, but a bit dribbles out onto your chin.

You keep lathing him with your tongue until he's a twitching, whimpering mess and he tries to stop you. "Too much! Gotta—fuck!"

You ignore him and don't let up. Your tongue is soft and wet against his too-sensitive cockhead and he thinks he might die. Words are beyond him; he's making the most desperate little whimpering sounds you've ever heard, and it's making you crazy.

"F—f—uuu—ck!" he chokes out. "Baaaaaby!!"

Finally you take pity and grin up at him. At the sight of you with your red, swollen lips and his come on your mouth he groans and drags you up to him. He kisses you hungrily, sucking and slurping every drop of himself off your mouth even as his tongue plunges in and out and tangles with yours.

You both moan and he rolls you over so that he's on top of you. The kisses don't stop, but somehow get hotter and deeper.

"That was so fuckin' good, angel," he rasps. "Fuck! Didn't know it could be that good! You're fuckin' incredible!"

"Taste so good, Eddie!" you say. "Coulda sucked your cock all night!"

He chokes out a laugh. "That probably woulda killed me."

You giggle and kiss him again. "Good thing I stopped then."

"Uh huh, because I gotta get my mouth on this cunt." He presses his hand between your thighs, then pulls it away with a dismayed look at his rings. "Hang on," he says.

You grab his hand with a mischievous smirk. Your eyes steady on his, you suck his finger into your mouth and wrap your lips around the ring. You slowly drag it off, then do it again for the other two.

He's staring at you with stars in his eyes. "Holy shit!" he breathes. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

You giggle and hand him the rings. "A little party trick, I guess," you say.

"Excellent trick. Remind me to attend more parties if you're gonna be there."

"You hate parties," you murmur as you tug him back down to you.

"I could learn to like 'em if you're gonna be suckin' my fingers," he says with a grin. He pulls your shirt up and over your head, then kisses his way down to your tits. Like earlier he spends ages on them: licking and sucking your nipples. Biting a little. Tugging them with his teeth. He kneads your tits with both hands and lathes his tongue back and forth over each sensitive bud until you're writhing under him.

"Eddie, please! My pussy!"

He gives a rough, hungry groan and finally moves on to kiss and bite his way down your tummy. He bites the pudge below your bellybutton. Sucks and laps his tongue over your soft skin.

He undoes your shorts and you lift your hips so he can tug them and your panties down together, and you kick the clothes away. He sits up and swallows hard. "You're so fuckin' pretty, baby girl," he says in an awestruck voice.

Your skin seems to glow in the moonlight, your nipples dark and swollen like ripe cherries. Between your thighs he can just make out the crisp whorl of hair on your mound and the way your puffy lips glisten when you squirm under his gaze.

"Is this for me?" he murmurs, his palm coming to rest against your pussy. "This sweet thing's all for me?"

"All for you, Eddie," you gasp. "Please don't tease me! God I need to come!"

"Greedy little thing," he says. "Guess it's your turn to beg, huh?" He drags a fingertip up and down your slit and you can't stop the needy little noises that fall from your lips.

"Please!" you whine. "Need your mouth, baby boy!"

He groans and ducks his head to kiss you before falling between your thighs. He kisses the inside of your knee then spreads you wide. Bites the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and sucks until you hiss.

"Can I leave a mark, princess?"

"Uh huh! Where no one'll see."

"Mmmm. Mine," he murmurs and sucks several big, dark marks. You squirm and writhe and whine, undone before he's even touched your cunt.

"And this is mine too," he says about the cunt in question. He kisses your labia. Drags his tongue up and down, then licks his lips as he savors the taste of you. "Goddamn you taste good, princess!"

"More, please!" you gasp.

He grunts and tugs your legs over his shoulders so he can really bury his face in you. He spreads you and licks every inch of you. Dips his tongue inside and swirls. Flicks up to your clit and then stops just before touching it.

"Hmmm. What's this?" he says. "A strawberry, all fat and pretty and ripe just for me?"

"Uh huh! Tastes good, too!"

He smirks and wraps his lips around it to suck. Your hips come up off the blanket with a little cry, but he holds you steady and still. "Can you be good, baby? I'll tell you when you can move."

You bite your lip. Where did that whiny, begging little boy go? Eventually you manage a nod. "I can be good," you say. "I'll be still."

"Good girl." He presses his mouth against you again and lathes his tongue back and forth across your ridiculously sensitive clit. You moan his name and grip the blanket and your thighs and belly are tense as you resist the urge to rock against his face.

His hands slide up your body to squeeze your tits, pinch your nipples. You can't help it: you writhe under him, whimpering his name, but he doesn't let up or make you stop. He's making the hungriest noises you've ever heard as he slurps and sucks at your clit. You look down at him, his big eyes and flushed cheeks, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, fingers tight enough to leave marks on your tits.

"Eddie oh god!" you gasp. "Eddie, please, please! Need fingers, baby!"

"Not yet," he mumbles and goes back to sucking. You taste so fucking good and you're so responsive and desperate! His cock is fully hard all over again, aching and throbbing, and he ruts against the blanket in wanton desperation.

"Fuck fuck oh fuck!" you whimper. "That's so good, fuck!!"

"You can move, baby. Fuck my face."

"Eddie!!" you cry. Your hips buck; you grab a handful of his hair to hold him tight against you; your thighs grip his head and he tugs and twists your nipples.

"Please!" you breathe. "Oh god please!" You're so close you can taste it, your tummy tightening and clenching as the orgasm closes in. He knows it too, and he doesn't let up. His tongue pulses and lashes against your clit and that's it, you can't take it anymore. You grind against his face and bite down on your free hand to muffle your scream of pleasure as the wave breaks over you.

He groans and laps up the rush of wetness and before you can catch your breath he's sinking his middle two fingers into you, deep, and you let out a soft cry.

"Eddie!"

"You asked for fingers, princess," he says, his voice rough. "I live to serve."

He leans up to kiss you, letting you suck your orgasm off his swollen lips. "You want another one, greedy girl?"

"Uh huh!" you gasp with a desperate nod. "Please!"

He groans and kisses you again. "Knew you'd be so good, baby. Knew you were my goddamn dream girl."

You push your fingers through his hair, shoving it away from his sweaty face, and bite and nip at his jaw. His neck. You suck his earlobe into your mouth and he whimpers your name.

He works you with his sensitive fingers, curling and flexing them until he finds the spot that makes you whine against his ear. "There, princess?"

"Right there!"

He kisses you hard and starts to fingerfuck you rough and fast. He twists them. Scissors them open and closed. You squeeze around him and the sloppy, filthy sounds your cunt is making drive you both wild. His face is set and intense, his dark eyes steady on yours with a line between his brows and his full mouth thinned in concentration. You're all he can see, his entire universe, and neither of you wants the feeling to end.

"Oh god!" you whine. "Oh god, Eddie, that's—oh fuck please!!"

"Come for me, baby girl," he croons. He kisses you and nips at your lip. "Make a mess for me. Take what you need, princess. Whatever you need."

You grip his hair with one hand and the blanket with the other as you buck up onto his fingers. He moves with you, setting a harsh, driving rhythm that makes you want to scream. When he twists his hand and his thumb finds your clit that's it, you're gone. You yank his hair and moan his name and clench around his fingers so tight he hisses.

He watches you as the orgasm grips your body, the way your chest heaves and your tummy ripples and clenches. Your thighs are shaking and there are tears running down your cheeks. He kisses them away so gently, his lips soft and sweet on your heated cheeks.

Eddie eases his dripping hand from your cunt and grins at you. "You did make a mess, princess. You squirted for me. What a good girl!"

You shudder and nod. "That—happens—sometimes. But never with someone else," you say through deep, panting breaths.

"Oof," he says, a rough exhale like you punched him. "That's so fuckin' hot. I'm honored, baby. Thank you."

You giggle and sit up enough to wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze. "You did it, silly. I'm the one who should be thanking you."

He hisses and carefully removes your fingers from his dick. "Stop that. Bad girl. I have plans for that."

"Oh do you? Care to share with the whole class?"

"Uh huh, I will. First..." He grabs his pack and hands you the bottle of water from inside it.

"Ooo, smart boy." You take several long, thirsty gulps before handing it back so he can do the same.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins at you, the really big one that crinkles up his whole face, and you can't help but grin back. You murmur his name and pull him close for soft, easy kisses, and he manages to get the lid back on the water bottle before he's on top of you again.

"Hang on, angel. Gotta—" He twists away just long enough to grab a condom from a pocket of his jacket, and then he's back to kiss up and down your neck.

"You brought condoms?"

He gives a sheepish shrug. "I always carry one with me. Just in case."

"Uh huh. Eddie 'The Stud' Munson."

"Ha. Yeah, that's me." He strokes his hands up and down your sides and you arch into it. "Tell me what you want, princess."

"I—fuck." You push at his shoulder so that he turns onto his back. "Like this," you say. "Got a taste for it earlier."

"Not gonna complain," he says. He squeezes your thighs and hands you the condom.

You study him a moment. "You know, I'm on the pill."

His eyes widen just a little. "Really?"

"Mhmm. I've always used a condom before."

"Me too," he says, swallowing hard. "Do you wanna—not?"

You lean down to kiss him. "I'd love to feel you come inside me," you murmur against his mouth.

He's pretty sure he's died and gone to Heaven, but somehow he manages to nod. "Yeah, princess. Whatever you want."

You smirk, toss the condom aside, and straddle him. "Ready, sweet boy?"

"God yeah! Please, baby!"

He holds himself steady for you and with long, filthy moan you sink down onto him. "Oh god!!" you whimper as he stretches you. You're absolutely dripping wet, but even after 2 orgasms you aren't used to taking something so big. You can feel the head snug inside you and it's incredible.

"Eddie!! Fuck!" you whimper. "Oh fuck you're so big!!"

"Baby girl!" he gasps. He cannot believe how good you feel, how hot and slick and just right. "Perfect little cunt, perfect little princess!" He smirks at you and squeezes your thighs again. "But not so perfect, huh? More like the perfect little slut."

Your eyes widen and your cunt clenches around him. "Say it again, baby."

He rocks up into you and you move against him. "Is that what you are, baby? My little slut? Perfect princess on the outside, hungry little whore on the inside?"

"Oh fuck!!" you cry, your head calling back. No one has ever talked to you like this before, and it's doing things to you. "Eddieeee!"

"Ride me, baby," he grunts. "Take that cock. It's all yours, sweetheart. Your cock."

You whimper and don't waste any more time. You brace your hands on his chest and grind down onto him. You wiggle until you get just the right angle, then lifts your hips and drop back down. You both hiss. He grips your hips, his fingers digging in so that the skin turns white around them, and soon you're fucking him in earnest, his big cock hitting you just right, your clit grinding between you in a way that makes you whine.

"Greedy girl," he breathes. "Fuck I love it! Love the way you take my cock, love how much you need it!"

"Gonna come, gonna—can't—oh my god!!" You can't believe you're coming again, fourth time tonight, and it's so fucking good, better each and every time. "Eddie!" you gasp. "God, Eddie!!"

He squeezes your ass, then carefully lifts you off of him. You're confused in your post-orgasmic haze, but you can see him smirking at you. "On your knees, princess. Down on your elbows."

You moan and do as you're told. "Don't hold back, Eddie," you breathe as he kneels behind you. "I can take it hard like this. I'll stop you if it's too much."

"Fuck," he says. He whispers your name and strokes a hand down your back. You feel the tip nudge your entrance, and then he's inside you, all one stroke that buries him to the hilt.

You cry out and push back against him. "Fuck me!" you whine. "Fuck me, baby, please!"

He's very glad he already came once or he'd be in trouble right now. As it is he can hold on enough to give you what you want. He pulls out and slams in again, the force of it rocking through you. You grip fistfuls of the blanket and beg for more, faster, like that, more!!

He fucks you deep and slow, no matter how much you beg for him to go faster. Your ass is so soft and round against him. He spreads it with both hands, then licks his fingertip and presses it against your hole.

"Eddie?" you whimper.

"Shhh, baby. I got you. Stop me if you don't want it." He drags his finger down to grab some of your wetness and pulls it up to your hole; over and over until you're slick all the way up.

"Don't stop!" you manage. He's deep inside you, rocking and grinding, and it's a maddening, delicious tease. "Fill me up, Eddie."

"Mmmm, you wanna be stuffed full, princess?"

"Uh huh! Please!"

He loves how wrecked and desperate and cock-drunk you sound. He sides his finger in and out of his mouth, getting it nice and slick, and slowly, carefully pushes it into your ass.

It hurts a little, a rough burn, but it's also good, so fucking good, and you rock back into him with a hungry whine. "Like that! Fuck, Eddie, like that!"

He draws more of your slick up until he can get his finger in to the second knuckle and he just holds it there as he fucks you. Harder. Faster. He grips your shoulder with his free hand for leverage and pulls you back with each thrust forward. He's grunting and gasping your name and you've never felt so full and used and delicious.

"Don't stop!" you gasp. "Oh fuck don't stop!!"

"Oh god oh fuck goddamn, princess, I can't—" He bites his lip hard, but it's no good. He's gonna come. You feel incredible, sound so good, are so desperate and needy for him still, after four orgasms, and he can't hang on. "Gonna—fuck!!"

He fills you in a hot, breathless rush, and you moan at the sensation. "Eddie!!"

He's groaning, his head thrown back, but when he hears your wrecked voice he realizes you didn't come again. He pulls out and stops the rush of your mingled come with his fingers. He draws some of it up to your ass so he can fuck you there while he fingers your cunt, and he twists his hand to press his thumb to your clit.

You whine, completely overwhelmed. "Eddie!" It's all you can manage: his name, like a mantra. Your brain is utterly gone, fucked out on the forest floor, and now he's got you stuffed full with three fingers in your aching cunt and another deep in your ass.

"One more, baby," he rasps. "I know you can do it. One more just for me."

"Can't!" you whimper. "Can't, Eddie, can't!"

"Yeah you can. Pretty little slut. Sweet little princess. Come for me. Look at you, takin' me like a goddamn pro. You love it. I know you do."

"I do!!" you say, your voice high and thready. "God fuck oh god!" After that you can't form words; it's all just sensation, pleasure and sharp, heady spikes of almost-pain, and soon you're giving him what he wants, another orgasm, and this one rings you out and leaves you boneless and spent and outside of yourself.

He whispers sweet, soothing words and carefully pulls out of you. Wipes one hand on his bandana, then gathers you against his chest. You look up at him, wide-eyed and stunned, and he kisses the tears off your cheeks again before sliding the fingers that had been in your cunt between your lips.

You moan at the mingled taste of the two of you and suck them clean.

"Good girl," he croons. "Fuck, you're such a good girl. That was insane, baby. Fucking incredible!" He replaces his fingers with his mouth and you kiss slow and easy as you ease back onto the blanket.

He wraps his arms around you and you snuggle into his chest. You still can't speak.

"Princess?" he murmurs against your hair. "You okay?"

You nod. Your fingers clench against him. "Yes. Yeah. Holy shit, Grove."

"Yeah," he says.

"That was..."

"Uh huh."

"Have you ever...?"

"Nope. Not like that. Have you?"

You shake your head. "Wow."

He grins and lifts his hand. "Yeah?"

You look up at him, face scrunched in confusion, but then comprehension dawns and you snort out a laugh. You tap your hand against his, too worn out to slap. "Yeah," you say. "You big fuckin' nerd."

"Emphasis on fuckin'," he says with a smirk.

You laugh again and roll away with a groan. "Oh god I hate you. Go away! You're fucking awful!!"

He cackles and drags you back against him. "You like it. You like me. You wanna have sex with me again. Don't lie, strawberry shortcake."

You give a drunken giggle and turn your head to bite his arm. "Yeah, doofus, I like you. And if I manage to ever walk again, I will definitely wanna have sex with you again."

"Whoop whoop! Calls for another one!" He lifts his hand again, and this time when you hit it you curl your fingers with his and lean in to kiss him.

"Dork," you murmur against his lips.

"Slut."

"Your slut."

"Uh huh. Your dork."

"Good," you breathe. "That's exactly what I want."

“I have dated,” you say with a frown. “It wasn’t for me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hooking up with a few guys at a few different parties is hardly dating,” she says. She leans in closer, lowering her voice so none of the cafeteria busybodies will overhear. “You know I love you and all your convictions, but my parents won’t let me date until you do, and I really. Really. Want to go out with Steve. Just once! Please?”

You huff and drum your fingers against the table. You aren’t 100% sure about Steve, but Nancy tends to be a good judge of character, so if she likes him...

“Fine!!” you say. Nancy beams and claps her hands in delight. You hold up a hand to quell her enthusiasm. “But I’m not going out with one of Steve’s idiot jock buddies. Find me someone interesting.”

Nancy stares at you. “Sweetie, no offense, but...what the hell does that mean?”

“I mean, like, I don’t know. Someone not like Steve. Think of Steve, then go the opposite direction.”

Her face twists in thought. “I’ll talk to Steve.”

“Do that,” you say, grabbing your tray. “In the meantime I have chem.” You walk away, confident that they won’t find anyone. Steve’s friend circle is small, and it’s almost exclusively jocks—except, strangely, for Robin Buckley; that’s not a pair you ever would’ve pictured. You’re sure they won’t find anyone who meets your criteria. The peace and quiet of your senior year will remain undisturbed.

---

Eddie Munson has probably spoken 2 words to Steve Harrington in his entire life, yet now he’s nearly positive Steve is waving...at him. And heading...his way. Eddie glances over his shoulder, but the coast is clear. Just him. And Steve. Making a beeline right for him.

That can’t be good.

“Hey! Munson! You got a sec?!”

Steve Harrington knows his name? That really can’t be good. Eddie shifts his notebook from one arm to the other and shrugs a little. “Kinda on my way somewhere.”

“Right, yeah, your Hellfire thing. Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler are in that, right?”

Now Eddie is thoroughly nonplussed. Even more than he was before. “Yeah,” he says. “Is that a problem?”

“Nah, man, not at all!” Steve runs a hand through his ridiculous hair and grins. “They’re kinda friends of mine. I mean, Dustin is. Sorta. And Mike’s his buddy, so...” Steve swallows and glances around. “Okay, look, this is kinda weird, but...you know Mike’s older sister, Nancy?”

“Uh huhh,” Eddie says, drawing the syllable out in suspicion. He starts toward the media room, hoping Steve’ll get the hint, but he just falls in next to him.

“Nancy’s cool. Really, really cool. And smart. Probably too good for a schlub like me,” Steve says, which makes Eddie snort.

“False humility ain’t your look, man.”

Steve peers at him, but then blinks it away. “Anyway, I really wanna ask her out, but her parents have this weird rule...” He explains the Wheelers’ bizarre and frankly antiquated rule that their precious daughter can’t date until her friends do—one friend in particular. You.

“Do you think maybe you could ask her out? She agreed to go out with someone so Nancy and I could date, but she requested someone, uh.” Steve clears his throat. They’re at the media room by now, and he stops. Shoves his hands in his pockets. “Someone...weird? Uh. Not at all like me, were her words.”

Eddie snorts. Is this a joke? He’s seen Carrie like 50 times and he has no intention of being the sad girl covered in pigs’ blood; especially since he doesn’t have any psychic powers to get his awesome, fiery revenge.

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” he says. “I might be stoned, but I’m not stupid. No way a friend of Nancy Wheeler’s would go out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.”

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He told Nancy this was a bad idea. “Look, man, I swear I’m being straight with you. She’s cool, okay? A little bit touchy and, like, grumpy? I guess? But cool. She’s into that Dungeons and Dragons stuff too. You can ask her to join Hellfire! She’d probably say yes.”

He gives Eddie big, hopeful puppy eyes, and as much as Eddie wants to tell him to fuck off, some part of him can’t. He’s noticed you around school; he has eyes. You’re cute and definitely smart and probably way out of his league...but fuck it. It’s not like his stock could plummet much further, and if you really are into D&D, it’d be cool to have a girl in the club.

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Not gonna promise anything, but I’ll talk to her. If she wants to join Hellfire, fine. If not, you’re on your own. Find another patsy. Got it?”

“Yes! Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” He slaps Eddie’s shoulder. “I promise you won’t regret it! I can even pay for your date. Just lemme know where you’re gonna take her. I’ll throw in a little extra for your trouble.”

Pay him. To date a cute girl. There are worse ways to make money. “Cool. I’ll see if I can talk to her tomorrow.” He pauses and studies Steve through narrowed eyes. “If you’re fuckin’ with me--”

“Swear I’m not!”

“Fine. But if I get kicked in the nuts I’m comin’ after you.”

“Fair enough. Thanks, Munson. Really.” Steve grins again and practically skips away.

Eddie glowers after him. Possibly he just made a huge mistake, but, again, what the hell? Maybe he’ll get a chance to chat up a cute girl; maybe he’ll get kicked in the nuts. Either way it’ll be something to do.

---

The next day during lunch you’re minding your own business attempting to catch up on the reading for AP English. Nancy is off canoodling somewhere with Steve (or so you suspect), so you’re on your own. Just you and Hamlet.

Hamlet’s hitting existential crisis number 582 (give or take) when you sense someone hovering over your shoulder. You glance back and your eyes narrow when you see Eddie Munson.

He offers a wave and a little smile. “Hi,” he says. “Hey. Um. I’m Eddie.”

“I know who you are.”

“Great! That’s great.” He takes the seat next to you, uninvited, and peeks again at your book. “Hamlet, huh? That’s the guy who banged his mom, right?”

Your mouth quirks. “In some interpretations, sure. But I think you’re thinking of Oedipus Rex.”

“Oedipus! Right. The riddle guy who banged his mom. Yeah, Hamlet’s the one with the ghost dad.”

“Bingo.” You shut your book and set it neatly in front of you. “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh, yeah.” He drums his hands against the table, his rings catching the light, and offers you an awkward smile. “I hear you’re into D&D.”

“Wow. Word gets around about an interest I never talk about or have a chance to indulge in.”

He blinks, then his grin turns sheepish. “Yeah, well. I think Mike Wheeler mentioned it? You’re friends with his sister, right? He’s in my club.” He smooths his shirt. “Hellfire Club.”

“So I’ve heard,” you say, mildly. “Are you selling candy bars or something?”

“Huh? Oh. Ha. No. We’re looking for an extra member for our next campaign. Someone with some experience.”

You eye him a moment. “You know, I tried to join your club freshman year. The guy in charge at the time told me girls didn’t play D&D.”

“He said what?!” He scowls and tugs at a lock of his hair. “Shit. Fuck that. We’re under new management now, and everyone’s welcome. So you in, or...?”

You grab your backpack and slip your book into it. “Listen, Eddie...I don’t know what this is about, but I’m a little busy these days, so I don’t really have time to—”

“Steve Harrington said I should ask you out!” he blurts as you get up to leave.

You freeze a moment before dropping back down into your seat. “You?”

“Yep, me. Sorry, not exactly the Dating Game lottery, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re fine. Just--well. I did say someone different.” You sigh and shake your head. “Fine. When and where?”

He stares. “The club?”

“No.” You wave a hand. “The date. You are interested in the date, right?”

“Oh!” he says. “The date! Yeah, sure, good. Is it like a double thing with Steve and Nancy, or...?”

This poor boy seems completely out of his element, and he’s kinda cute in a puppy, Muppet sort of way. You take pity on him. “There’s a party this weekend at Sharon Mooney’s. Pick me up at 8.” You scribble your address and the date on a piece of paper and pass it to him. “Don’t be late.”

“A party?!” Steve didn’t say a word about parties. He did NOT sign up for parties! He looks up at you, your brows lifted in a question, and after a moment he gives a resigned nod. “Eight,” he says. “I’ll be there.”

“Great,” you say. You stand up again, so that he’s having to look up at you. “This is strictly for show. No kissing, no touching, no bullshit. We’ll go, have a few drinks, mingle, leave. Got it?”

He blows out a breath and flashes a double thumbs up. “Got it, boss. See you then.”

"Hey," he says when you get close enough. "Feeling better?"

"Than Saturday? Considering it's mostly a blank I'm gonna say...yes?"

He grins and tugs at a lock of his hair. "Yeah, you were pretty messed up." His expression turns serious. "Steve and I thought maybe the guy giving you the drinks might've slipped you something. Glad you came to find me while you were still sober enough."

You frown down at your boots, then up at him. "I woke up Sunday morning still dressed with a pounding headache and a bottle of Tylenol and glass of water on my nightstand. Was that you?"

"The headache, no. The rest, yeah. I figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"Hm," you say. You look away. Back. "Thanks," you finally manage. "That was nice. How'd you get me past my parents?"

"Practice," he says with an insouciant grin.

You roll your eyes, but then reach into your bag for something. "So, um. I...well. I made you this. As a kind of thank you, and because I guess it's what people do? When they're dating? Anyway, whatever, here." You push a tape at him, and he catches it before it can hit the ground.

He reads the track list and his expression goes through a series of changes, each one pissing you off more than the last. "Uh...that's—that's nice, but I can't accept this."

"Hm. Okay. It's not an engagement ring. Why the fuck not?"

"It's got—fuck. It's got Tiffany! And Wilson Phillips! And—and—Pearl Jam!"

"I can read, Grove. I made the fucking thing. Your point?"

"Fuuuck. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

"I said mostly a blank," you snap. You wish now you hadn't used the stupid nickname. Clearly he doesn't deserve a nickname. "So do you want the tape or not?"

"I can't—I mean—it was nice of you to—but I—”

"Forget it! I'd hate for you to strain yourself." You snatch the tape back from him and spin on your heel. "Clearly this was a stupid fucking idea. I'll tell Nancy to find someone else."

He watches you go in wide-eyed horror. "Wait!" he cries. "Hang on, wait, don't—awww, come on!" This last in response to you flipping him the bird over your shoulder as you disappear inside the building. "Fuck!" he growls. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! A girl gives you a tape, you take the fucking tape! It doesn't matter if it's Kenny G's greatest hits! Fuuuuuck!!"

The door opens and he peers that way hopefully, but instead of you he sees a very annoyed-looking Steve Harrington. "What the fuck did you do?!" he says. "I just talked to the girl I'm paying you to go out with, and she told me to go fuck myself and take you with me."

"Shiiiiit!" Eddie says. He presses both hands to his face and scrubs. What to do, what to do?! He drops his hands and squares his shoulders before casting Steve a steady, stoic look. "There's nothing else for it, my man. I've gotta sacrifice my dignity on the altar of impressing a girl."

Steve snorts. "Sacrifice your dignity!? Dude, have you seen your hair??"

Eddie ignores him. "Your friend Robin's in band, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Gonna need her help." He tugs a lock of hair over his mouth as he paces, thinking. Nancy can get him a copy of your schedule. During band period would be best. He can cut class. His attendance has been decent this year, but it's just one class. And it's important.

It's a perfect plan. He'll win you back, plus some, and then maybe you two can discuss that big ol' crush you had on him that "went away." That's a topic worth exploring further—even if it means enduring mindless pop music and Eddie Vedder.

“You STILL aren’t speaking to him?!” Nancy says a few days later. You’re in the cafeteria having lunch and revisiting your tiff with Eddie.

“He was a jerk!” you say, stabbing your mashed potatoes with your spork.

“He was, but…”

“Nance!” You scowl down at your tray and push it away. “Okay, look. First I made an absolute fool of myself at the party. Got completely wasted and sloppy.”

“That wasn’t your fault!”

“Regardless, it happened. Then he was apparently so NICE, such a GENTLEMAN.” You roll your eyes. “So I made him that stupid tape and he acted like I handed him toxic waste! I spent the whole day on it!”

“Yes, he acted stupid, but—”

“Oh god speak of the annoying devil,” you say. It’s too late to hide: he’s seen you and is heading straight your way.

“Ladies!” he says as he drops down next to you. He gives Nancy a nod and you a smile. “Still craving cheese fries?” he says to you.

You frown. “I’m sorry?”

“Saturday night you were dying for cheese fries, but I thought it was better to take you home instead. Mostly because you passed out in my van.”

You look away, flushing. God how humiliating!

“But I thought if you were still in the mood, we could go today after school.”

Your eyes snap to his face and you scowl. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear on Monday.”

“Noooo, you did. I just thought you might’ve changed your mind.”

You lean in. “Nope!” you say, carefully popping the p.

“Okay then.” He waves, and a kid from his Hellfire Club runs up. With a guitar.

“What—?”

“You brought this on yourself,” he says and stands. He tosses the strap over his head and strums. The sound fills the cafeteria, and you see another kid by the wall manning an amp.

“Eddie, WHAT are you DOING?!” you hiss.

“This one’s for you, babe!” He launches into a song that you don’t recognize—until he starts singing. “Children behave! That’s what they say…when we’re together!”

“Oh. My. God!”

Nancy grabs you across the table. “Is that—?!”

“Oh my GOD!!” It’s a loud, kinda slowed-down, metal version of I Think We’re Alone Now. Most famously covered by mall princess Tiffany.

"Running just as fast as we can...holding on to one another's hand..." He's really getting into it, grinding on the guitar and singing to her like it's his own personal rock concert. The entire cafeteria is watching, shocked, but the Hellfire kids are into it.

About halfway through the band marches in and starts playing along. The high school marching band. You bury your face in your hands and want to sink into the floor, but when you peek through your fingers at him part of you admits it's kinda cute.

"I think we're alone now! The beating of our hearts is the only sooouuunnd!" As he repeats the chorus he advances closer, and at the last line he drops to his knees and slides across the floor to end up directly at your feet. He unplugs the guitar and stands to take a bow. Most people are yelling and clapping, but a few boos are mixed in. He seems to enjoy those just as much. He flashes a double bird and sticks his tongue out, Gene Simmons style.

"C'mon, princess," he says with a grin. "Let's go get cheese fries."

You have class, but...

With a laugh you grab the hand he's offering. "Yeah, okay. Because that was the stupidest, ballsiest thing I've ever seen."

He grins even bigger, the lines around his eyes and mouth creasing his face. "Stupid and ballsy, the Eddie Munson special."

"Come on," you say as you drag him from the caf and his adoring public. "We'll chat more about your stupid balls over fries."

You're both sitting in the back of the van, doors open, legs hanging over the edge. You're singing his version of the song and he's got his head buried in his jacket.

"Stopppp!!" he cries. "Please! You're so goddamn mean."

You break off, giggling, and throw his pack of cigarettes at him. "How the hell did you come up with such a ridiculous plan?"

"I don't know. It sounded good at the time! And, look, it worked. You cut class to come have fries with me."

"We don't have fries yet," you say, "and I could cut and run at any time."

"Noted. So you hated it?"

You grin and duck your head, then peek at him. "No, I didn't hate it. It was cute. Stupid, but cute. How'd you learn the song that fast?"

He shrugs. "It wasn't that hard. And, I dunno. I'm a fuck-up, but I'm not bad at music."

"Eddie," you say with a little frown. "Don't talk about yourself like that." You poke his arm. "You're not a fuck-up. You're just..."

"Weird?"

You smile and nudge him. "You," you say.

"Right. A squishy, not-scary Muppet monster."

"That's right," you say, your smile widening. "Grover."

"You know, it's kinda growin' on me. The nickname."

"Funny," you say softly. "I was thinking the same about you." You lean in and kiss him softly, easily. It's quick, and you might have gone in for another, but the carhop arrives with your fries.

"Damn," Eddie mutters. "Saved by the cheese."

You giggle and the two of you dig in.

"But," he says after a food-filled silence, "I gotta protest: I might be stupid, but my balls aren't."

"Ohhh. Smart balls, huh?"

"Yup. These babies solve quadratic equations!"

You cover your mouth as you laugh and take a sip of coke. "Maybe you should ask them for help in math."

"Hm. You know, it's funny you should say that." He licks cheese off his fingers and wipes them on his jeans. "You're in AP Chem, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Cool, that's cool. I'm in chem, too. Not AP, of course. Just regular. But, uh. I gotta pass. I HAVE to. I gotta get out of Hawkins High."

"Third senior year," you remark. "It's maybe time."

"You're tellin' me. Anyway, you think maybe I could get some help? Like, uh. Tutoring?"

You consider a moment around a mouthful of cheesy potato. "Yeah, I could do that. Tomorrow, maybe? Unless you're busy."

"No, nope, I'm free. Tomorrow'd be great. We can go to my place after school. My uncle works doubles on Thursdays, second and third."

"Ouch," you say with a wince.

"Yeah, it's killer." He sighs and drops his napkin into the empty fry tray. "So. I gotta try again."

"Try what again?" you say with a frown.

"The kiss. You didn't see my best stuff, princess." He gets up to toss the trash in a nearby can, then boosts himself back into the van.

"Sound awfully sure of yourself," you say, scooting closer. You tug a little at his jacket and slide your hand under it, against his chest.

"You're gonna like it as much as you loved that song. Swear."

You let out a soft laugh. "Didn't love the song, pretty boy. Sorry."

"You liked it," he says.

"Hmm," you say, doubtfully.

He gently cups your face and rubs his nose against your cheek. "You liked it," he murmurs.

"Eh," you say, still playing it cool even as your pulse kicks up and your cheeks flush.

"You liked it," he says, firmly, and turns his head to capture his mouth with yours.

It's slow and easy and lingering, and when he pulls away you’re both a little breathless.

"I liked it," you whisper.

He grins. "I know you did, princess." He kisses you again, a little harder, and you make a soft noise before your hands come up to bury themselves in his hair.

He sucks your lower lip and nibbles gently. You're so soft and sweet; he can't get enough of kissing you, and it's only been two kisses.

You can't believe a boy can have lips this juicy. They're soft and full and he tastes salty like fries and sweet like root beer.

His tongue slides into your mouth and you meet it with your own. Tug his hair a little to pull his head back so you can nip at his jaw. His throat.

"Baby," he rasps. "Baby girl!"

You whine, just a little, and you both fall back into the van and somehow your leg hooks over his hips and you're grinding against each other as the kisses get hotter and deeper. His hand slides down to rest on your hip and creeps up just under the edge of your shirt. He tickles your side and you giggle.

"Ticklish?" he murmurs. "Good to know."

"Use your powers for good, Munson," you breathe and kiss him again. You press closer and rock. His hips fit between your thighs and you can feel... "Oh." You grin a little. "Hello."

"Shit!" he says. "Shit, babe, I'm sorry!"

You laugh a little. "It's okay," you breathe. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He's flushed red and sweating. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not like you can control it." You rock against him a little. "I don’t mind." You bite your lip. You want to see it. Touch it, even. But…

"Maybe—" You clear your throat. "Maybe you should take me home. I have a ton of homework."

"Yeah, sure, that's cool. That's good. I’m really—"

"Don't apologize again." You kiss him. "I promise I'm not mad or anything. Having a nice hard cock pressed against me is flattering, actually."

That seems to take some of the pressure off. "It's not stupid, either."

"Mmmm a penis that can do complex math. Be still my beating vagina."

He cracks up. "Wow," he says. "If I'd known it was that easy!"

"You calling me easy, Munson!?"

"...no..." He squirms a little. "Just, uh. Easily aroused?"

"Mmm." You lean in to bite his ear. "Says the boy with the raging hard-on."

"Come on, princess," he murmurs. His hand slides down over your ass. "You tellin' me you aren't wet right now?" He nuzzles your chin. "Throbbing a little, maybe?"

You don't want to admit it, but you've been at least fluttery since that first, quick kiss. Now your panties are soaked and you can feel your pounding heart in your cunt. You wish something else was pounding in that general vicinity.

"Maybe a little," you say. "A tiny bit."

He chuckles and squeezes your ass before he kisses you again. "Come on, baby doll. Lemme get you home. Or back to school?"

You lean away from him so you can grab his arm to check his watch. "Home," you say. "School's a wash for today."

"You got it." He kisses your nose, your forehead. "You're so pretty," he murmurs. "And soft. And smell amazing."

You brush your fingers over his kiss-swollen lips. "You're pretty. And soft...in some places. Fozzie Bear."

He grins. "Wacka wacka." He reluctantly pulls away and helps you up. "Shit," he mutters. "Head rush."

"Uh huh. Not much blood to the brain, huh?"

"Your fault, princess."

"Oops," you say, unrepentant.

He rolls his eyes and lifts you down from the van. "Brat."

"Muppet."

"Touché," he grumbles.

He isn't sure whether he's relieved or annoyed, but eventually he settles on relieved. He opens the door for you, a nice gesture you appreciate, and offers you a hand to help you climb in. You accept it, but only because you're wearing a skirt.

Eddie, ever the gentleman, does not check out your ass as you climb in. You don't notice what he is or isn't checking out, but if you knew, you'd be grateful.

Eddie has the radio blasting. You immediately crank the knob, then reach into your bag and pull out a tape. Eddie does a double take. "You brought...tapes?"

You shrug. "Always prepared," you say as you push it into the slot and turn the volume up again.

"Oh no! No no NO!" he says and hits eject.

"What?! I love that song! It's a classic!"

"Tiffany cannot be played in my van. It's not allowed. No!"

You smirk and buckle your seatbelt. "You knew it was Tiffany within two bars. Wow."

He glares at you before putting the van into gear and pulling out. "I'm a musician," he grumbles. "What the hell else do you have in that bag?"

Condoms, breath mints, $20, and lip gloss, but you aren't going to tell him that. "Odds and ends. I like to be prepared, like I said."

"Hmm." Girls amaze him. Purses are amazing. He wants to carry a purse. Just to have all his shit, right there. Tapes and safety pins and...whatever. "Convenient," he says.

"Hm?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing." He glances over at you; you're holding a little mirror in your hand and carefully applying lip gloss. He licks his lips and his eyes flick back to the road. "Pretty color," he says. "Looks nice on you."

You snap the wand back into the tube and drop it in your bag. "You don't have to compliment me, Eddie. We aren't really dating."

"It was a for-real compliment for a fake date," he says. "Trust me, princess: I know the score."

You're both quiet the rest of the ride, each lost in your own thoughts. Each of you is wondering if this whole thing isn't some stupid, epic mistake, but for different reasons. Eddie because he has to go to a fucking prep/jock party, you because...well. Just because. You have your reasons.

(And they have NOTHING to do with the crush you nursed on Eddie all through middle and a big chunk of high school. You got over that ages ago. It's not a factor.)

He finds a place to park near Sharon's house and cuts the ignition. "You ready for this?" he says.

Your mouth quirks. You lean in and press a shiny pink kiss to his cheek. "Don't wipe it off," you tell him. "Now we're both ready." You hop out before he can react, and with a deep, fortifying breath, you make your way into the party with Eddie Munson at your side.

---

The party is kind of lame and people are staring at you and yeah okay maybe you had one or two too many drinks, but you're not drunk. You're not! Tiny bit tipsy at worst. Where the hell is Eddie? It's hot in here and you want cheese fries.

"Hey!" you say to some rando you don't even know. "Where's Eddie?"

"Who?"

You roll your eyes and push rando away. "Never mind." You wander the crowd looking for a familiar head of bushy brown hair, and finally you spot him smashed in the corner looking like your dog after she had puppies and wondered what the absolute HELL are these?!

"Hey!" you call. You stagger to him and poke him in the arm. "You look miserable. Cheese fries?"

"Are you calling me cheese fries?" he says with a confused frown.

"No, doofus, I'm asking if you wanna go get cheese fries. Get outta here? Leave? Flee the scene?"

"Oh fuck yeah! Hey, how much have you had to drink?"

You hold your fingers up a smidge apart, then spread your hands. "I dunno. Some guy kept handing me cups."

"Some guy? Who?" He looks around, scouting the crowd over your head, but no one stands out.

"Y'know Grover?"

"Grover? There's a Grover at our school? Or do you mean US President Grover Cleveland?"

That makes you giggle uncontrollably. Eddie grabs your arm as you start to tip, and you sag against him. "Noooo not president! I mean Grover the guy! Blue guy! Sesame guy!" You squint as you struggle to remember. "Sesame Street! Thas it." You hum a few bars. "Sunny day, chasin the clouds away--"

"Yeah, I know Grover from Sesame Street," he says before you can launch into the full song. "Come on, let's get you home. I think cheese fries can wait."

"You're Grover!" you cry.

"Huh?" He freezes in the act of securing an arm around your waist to stare down at you.

"Grover! From Sesame--"

"No, yeah, we've established which Grover. But why?"

You giggle and reach up to poke his nose. "Blue. Fuzzy. Monster grrrr! But sweet. Not scary. Monsters scary but not Grover! Also Fozzie Bear."

He frowns. "Babe, you are drunk and I am so fuckin lost."

"Bears are scary!" you say as he starts you toward the door. "But he wears a hat and a tie and tells shitty jokes. Silly ol bear. That’s Pooh! But you’re not chubby. Fozzie or Grover, that’s you."

"Okay, yeah. I'm a Muppet. Thank you." He rolls his eyes a little, but on the inside he feels sort of...warm? Hm.

"Yup! Soft and squishy boy." You poke his side, making him wince. "Not chubby, but kinda squishy. Squish cheeks, squish squish," you say as you poke his cheek. He bats your hand down. "Grover boy!"

"Please never ever tell anyone that. I'm scary as hell."

You giggle and make a face. "Oooo so scared."

"Okay, come on." Arm around your waist, your arm around his shoulders, he manages to drag you a few feet. You are not cooperating.

"Oooo let’s dance!" you say, pushing away from him.

"No, nope, I don’t dance."

"Daaaaance with me!!" You pull him with you into the crowd and start to grind against him. It's. Distracting, and for a moment he lets himself be distracted. Then he grabs your shoulders and gently pushes you back a few steps.

"You said you wanted cheese fries," he reminds you.

"Yes!" You poke his nose. "Squishy Grover find me cheese fries!"

He frowns down at you. "Seriously, though, how much? You are fucking wasted!"

"Dunno. Daaance!!"

He sighs and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you against him and lift you off your feet. "Dance this way, princess," he says, sternly.

You wiggle away from him, and as you spin you spot Nancy and Steve. "Nancy! Grove, it's Nancy!" You beeline toward her and Eddie follows with a long-suffering sigh.

Nancy's expression darkens as Eddie approaches, and he quails. You collapse against her and hug her tightly. "Nannnnncy! Look, I brought Grover!"

"What did you give her?!" Nancy hisses at him. "She's completely wasted!"

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Nothing, I swear! She found me like this. She said some guy kept giving her cups."

"Guy?" Steve says. "What guy?"

"She didn't know, or wouldn't tell me, but I think it was more than just beer."

Steve glowers. "Be back," he says and heads for the kitchen to bust some heads.

"Get her home!" Nancy says to him. She gently untangles you from around her and hands you over to Eddie. "Safely!"

"I'm not an asshole," he says, scowling. "That was my plan."

"Good," she says. "I'll call you later," she says to you. "Or maybe tomorrow."

Eddie lifts you again and half carries/half drags you out to his van. He loads you in and gets your belt buckled.

"You're so sweet, Grove," you murmur and squish his cheeks again. "Freshman me is dying."

He frowns and goes around to his side. "Why is freshman you dying?" he says as he starts the engine.

"Big crush!" you say. You wave your arms. "BIG crush! Oh man Eddie Munson, so cute and weird metal boy with a guitar!" You sigh and lean against the window. "Went away though."

"Ha." He clears his throat. You had a crush on him!? And it went away?! No, you're just drunk. Don't know what you're saying. "Yeah, that happens," he manages.

You lean forward and shove the tape back in. "I think we're alone now!" you sing at the top of your lungs. It's not even that part of the song. "You put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground alone now!"

He can't help but laugh. "Alright, Tiffany, you got it." He turns the volume down a bit. "Let's get you home. Nancy's little but she's kinda scary."

"Mhmm," you murmur. You're running out of steam and slumped back in the seat. "Scarier than you, Fozz."

He huffs. "I really fuckin hope you remember nothing when you wake up tomorrow. A goddamn Muppet."

You change into your usual sleep uniform of panties and a t shirt and fall back into bed. Maybe you can read for a while, get him off your mind so that you can sleep.

That lasts about 20 minutes. Ugh. This is exactly why you don’t date! You’re far too busy to worry about dumb boys! You toss your book aside and run downstairs for a snack.

You’re on your way back to your room, granola bar in one hand and glass of milk in the other, when you head your private line ringing. You mutter a curse and run to catch it.

“Hello!” you say, breathlessly.

“Hello, did I interrupt something?” It’s Eddie.

You roll your eyes. “Me, running away from you.”

“Haha. Geez you’re so mean.”

“Uh huh. Hang on.” You put the phone down and shut your bedroom door, then climb back into bed and grab the phone again. “Okay, hi. What’s up?”

He grins and plops down on his bed. “I wanted to ask about tomorrow.”

“Hm?” You unwrap your granola bar, but then realize you can’t eat it while talking to him, so you set it aside and sip your milk instead.

“Tutoring? Did you forget?”

“Of course not. I’m just wondering what questions you have.”

He fiddles with the blanket. Maybe this was a mistake. He doesn’t actually have any questions about tomorrow; he just couldn’t stop thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice.

“Uhhh oh! What should I bring?”

You make a face. “Your chem book. Pens and paper. Your brain.”

“Cool, glad you mentioned the last one. Probably woulda forgot.”

You giggle just a little. “Blood flow issues again?”

“Ha,” he says on a breath. “Not right this second, but it’s definitely possible.” He pauses and drums his fingers against his thigh. “So, uh. How’s your evening been?”

“Fine,” you say. “My parents got a call from the school, but I think I calmed them down.”

“Oh shit that’s good. Can’t believe you ruined your perfect attendance record for me.”

“Uh huh, I’m turning into a juvenile delinquent. Cutting class to make out with Eddie Munson in the back of his van.”

"Hey, I just invited you for fries! You kissed me first."

"So I did," you say. "I guess I'm a sucker for pouty lips and big brown eyes."

"My lips are not pouty!"

"Mhmm, sure they are."

"Hmmph," he snorts. "If mine are yours are too. Big, soft, pretty lips. Big, bright eyes." He lets out a long breath. “I can’t stop thinking about you, pretty girl.”

You blush and shift in your seat. Pull the sheet up over your bare legs. His voice is a little low and rougher than usual and it makes you go warm all over. “I was—struggling with something similar,” you admit.

“Oh yeah?” He glances down as a bulge starts to grow in his boxers. Oh geez. Just your voice is doing this! He’s in trouble. He gives it the tiniest stroke with his fingertips.

"Eddie? What was that?" you say as he makes a soft, breathy noise.

"Huh? Oh, uh, nothing." Shit. He's gotta be more careful.

"Hmm." Your bed creaks as you finish off your milk and set the glass aside.

"What was that?" he says with a grin.

"Nothing! I was putting my empty glass on the nightstand."

"Ohhh, I see. Just being a good girl, all tucked in to your bed with your little snack," he says, his voice going rough as he talks. The image is Too Much. He bites off a groan as he rubs his bulge again.

"You okay?" you say. You maybe sort of suspect what that noise was, but surely you're wrong.

"Yeah, yup. I'm good. You?"

You lick your lips. “I want—to kiss you again,” you say. "I mean, if you—would like that. You seemed to like it."

“I’d love that,” he murmurs. “I’d love to be kissing you right now.”

You muffle another giggle. “You could sneak in. You were so good at it last time.”

"That's true! Sneak up to your room, crawl in your bed with you, and...study for chem!"

You laugh and grab your favorite bear from the pile by your bed. Rub your cheek against its soft fur. "Study, huh? What a responsible young man!"

"That's me! Eddie Munson, responsible—young—man." His voice stutters a little as he grips his erection and squeezes.

"Eddie Munson, clearly up to something. What are you doing?"

"I'm—shit. You're suspicious, huh?"

"Mhmm." You run your hand over your chest, across your pebbled nipples. The cotton of your shirt rubs the sensitive skin and you let out a tiny breath.

"Havin' another drink?" he says with a smirk.

"Oh, shut up."

He laughs and pulls his shorts down enough to free his cock. He grips the shaft and runs his thumb over the swollen head. This time he openly lets out a rough breath. "I'll just be quiet," he mumbles. "Just listen to you talk."

"Uh huh," you say. You tug one of your nipples, and then shove your shirt up with an impatient little growl. "As you do what?"

"Nothing. Why, what're you doing?"

"Nothing." You bite your lip around a breath as you continue to play with your extra-sensitive nipples. "What are you working on in chem right now?" you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Mmmm." He rubs his thumb up and down against the vein on the underside of his cock. Presses against the spot where the head meets the shaft and circles. "Covalent bonds," he manages.

"Oh good." You give up and press a hand between your thighs. You can feel how wet you are through your cotton panties. "I'm fantastic at covalent bonds."

"Uh huh. I just bet you are." He grinds his palm against the tip of his cock and grips it again to stroke the entire length. "What else are you good at, princess?"

You shiver at his tone, the roughness of it. "Lots of things," you breathe.

"God I bet you are."

You give the tiniest moan and shove your panties aside. You run your fingers up and down your dripping slit, over your slick labia. Then you push your fingers into your mouth and suck the taste of yourself off of them.

"What's in your mouth, baby?" he murmurs. "Don't lie."

"My fingers," you whisper.

"Oh? They get all sticky? Something nice and sweet on them?"

"Uh huh!" You feel drunk, dizzy, and if you don't come soon you're going to lose your mind.

He licks his hand and grips his cock again. Gives it several rough tugs before settling in for a slow, easy stroke. "I'd love to taste something sticky and sweet," he says. "Something soft and pink."

He smirks at the sound of your little whimper. Fuckin A he wants you. "Bet you have somethin' like that," he murmurs. "Bet it's just for me."

"Uh huh. A nice yummy snack." You circle your fingers around your clit and bite hard on your lip. "You have anything for me?"

"Oh yeah," he breathes. He strokes faster. "God do I have somethin' for you."

"Good," you say as you wiggle your hips and thrust two fingers into your cunt. "I want it, Eddie. Want to—want—to help you with your—bonds."

"Yeah," he grunts. "Molecules and shit."

"Periodic table!" you gasp as you fuck yourself. You squeeze the phone between your shoulder and chin so you can use your other hand on your clit.

"Gonna study so hard," he says. He's bucking his hips, fucking up into his hand, squeezing his shaft and stroking over the head in desperation. "So fuckin' hard, princess."

"Good! That's so good, so good, Eddie! Love it when you study hard, love it when you're such a good student for me!" You can't hold back a whine as you circle your clit. You're close, so fucking close.

"Gonna ace that test just for you. Make a big fat A just for my pretty little tutor." He's gonna explode any second. "Gonna—fuck—you're so fuckin' good!"

"Eddie! Love that, so proud, so good!!" You come hard, nearly drop the phone, moaning and whimpering with shaking thighs and throbbing cunt.

"Fuck!" he gasps and can't hold back another second. He makes a mess, painting his tummy with hot, thick come and whimpering your name over and over.

You're both quiet except for your rough panting. You lick your fingers clean and clear your throat. He grabs a towel and dabs at his stomach.

"So," you finally say. "See you at school tomorrow?"

"Yep. You want a ride?"

"No, Nancy'll take me. But if I could get a ride to your place?"

"Sure, no prob. Then I'll run you home in time for dinner. After the tutoring."

"Such a nice boy. Goodnight, Eddie."

"Night, princess. Sweet dreams."

"You too," you say, then hang up. You fall back against your pillows with a soft groan. Okay well THAT was a thing. An incredibly hot, delicious, amazing thing. You get up to grab fresh panties and head to the bathroom. You think maybe now you'll be able to sleep like a baby.

You only see Eddie in passing until school's over the next day. You're standing outside talking to Nancy when he cruises up. He stubs out his cigarette and grins. "Hey, Nancy. Hey, you ready to go?" he says to you.

"Yep. Got your chem book?"

He pulls his book bag around and pats it. "Plus a notebook and THREE pens. I'm as prepared as a goddamn Boy Scout!"

You can't help but giggle. "Come on, Foz. Let's see how much covalent bond info we can shove into that brain of yours before the clock strikes 6:30." You wave at Nancy, who's grinning like the cat who ate the canary, and follow Eddie to his van.

He opens the door for you, as always, then hurries around to his side and jumps in. "I picked up some Diet Coke," he says. "I know that's your drink."

"Yeah, it is. Thanks."

"Sure. I also, uh. Cleaned up a little. Wayne and I aren't the neatest pair."

He seems nervous. You reach over and give his skinny thigh a little squeeze. "It's okay, Grove. I'm sure you did great. I'll be there to tutor you, not critique your interior decor."

"Right!" he says. He gives you a quick grin. "And I really do need to pass this test."

"You will," you say. You pat his leg and pull your hand back. "It's next week, right? We can study today and maybe sometime over the weekend. I know you've got Hellfire tomorrow."

"You know I wasn't bullshitting when I asked you to join. You can, if you want. We'd love another member."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Your mouth quirks. "Do I get a shirt?"

"I've got one at my place I can give you. It's clean and everything!"

"Oooo, you spoil me!" You grin at each other before his eyes flick back to the road. "Sure, I'll come check it out," you say. "I play a high elf healer. Rhiannon. After the Fleetwood Mac song."

You wait for some judgmental or snide comment, but he just nods. "Pretty good band," he finally says.

"Wow. How much did that cost you?"

He lets out a rusty breath. "A lot, babe. Not gonna lie. That one was hard. Though it coulda been worse."

You giggle and settle back in your seat. "I'm proud of you."

You chat casually the rest of the ride, almost like friends. Neither of you mentions last night. It's like it never happened. Part of you wonders if he regrets it, but you decide that no, he's just waiting for you to bring it up first. He doesn't want to pressure you since you made "no touching, no kissing, no bullshit" your very clear rule for this thing you two have going.

Last night definitely counts as "bullshit."

You get to his place and he grabs a can of root beer and a can of Diet Coke from the fridge before leading you back to his room. You take a moment to study his posters (it's only fair; he's seen yours) and notice the fact that there are clean sheets on his bed. Wow, he really did clean up.

"Have a seat," he says. "Sorry I don't have a desk or anything."

"It's okay," you say and drop down onto his bed. "I think I can handle it." You kick off your shoes and scoot back, dragging your backpack with you.

He hesitates a moment before climbing up next to you so that you're sitting side by side against the headboard. "Okay, um. Chapter 3," he says as he pulls out his textbook.

You grab your book and notebook and flip open to the relevant chemistry notes. "Okay, first you explain to me what covalent bonds are."

His forehead creases and he haltingly explains the concept. He actually has it down pretty well.

You get through bonds quickly and move on to other topics on the test, and before you know it two hours have passed.

"Shit," he says with a glance at his watch. He scrubs his face with both hands. "My brain hurts."

You pat his head, grinning. "Poor brain. Needs a break, I think."

"Uh huh. Want a snack? I can make some popcorn."

"Yeah, that'd be good. We can quit for the day, if you want. Put a movie on for our last few hours. There's a point of diminishing returns with all this."

His eyes crinkle as he smiles at you. "You were readin' my mind, princess. Movies are stored under there," he says, pointing. "Pick one out while I go make the popcorn."

He hops up and you crawl off the bed to check out his movie collection. Slashers and porn. Porn and slashers. Hm. Nothing super surprising, except maybe The Never-Ending Story. But that's a classic.

Since it's only a few weeks away, you decide on Halloween and push the tape into the VCR. You pause it and put your books away before settling back on his bed.

He comes back with a huge bowl of popcorn and two fresh sodas. "Hey," he says. "What'd you pick?"

"Debbie Does Dallas," you say, straight-faced.

"What? That's not even—" He scowls as he catches on. "Very funny. Jerk."

"That's a lot of porn, Munson."

He shrugs and plops down beside you. "I'm a growing boy. I have needs."

"Uh huh. For tits and serial killers, apparently."

"Nothin' wrong with tits. And serial killers are built into the fabric of American society. Did you know there's something like 50 serial killers active in the US at any given time?"

You look at him, wide-eyed. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. And, I mean, Hawkins is...well."

"Weird," you say.

"To put it mildly. Anyway, the horror movies are kind of an escape. They're so ridiculous." He hits play on the remote. "Take this one, for instance," he says, recognizing the opening credits. "How many different ways does Michael Myers die in just this one movie? But he always comes back."

You reach for some popcorn and munch on it thoughtfully. "The futility of fighting against the inevitable existential pull of 20th-century ennui?" you say.

"Yeah, that, and also you can't trust in institutions. The cops are rarely helpful in slasher movies. The government or anyone like that never is."

"Adults aren't usually at all. Kids and teenagers have to fight the monster."

"Exactly. Kids at summer camp, kids having nightmares, kids babysitting. At the end of the day you can only trust your friends to have your back, and even then they might get stabbed," he says. His expression is intense, his eyes big and bright, and you realize you could sit here and talk movies with him all afternoon.

You lean over, grab his shirt, and pull him in for a kiss. He sits back in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Nothing. Continue."

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. "I lost my train of thought."

"Oh," you say. You take the bowl of popcorn and set it aside. "Oops." You crawl into his lap and push him back against the headboard with one hand and grip his hair with the other. He stares up at you, astounded, and his big eyes flutter closed as you lean down to kiss him again.

"So," you murmur between kisses. "Do anything fun last night?"

His hands run up and down your back and he nips at your lips with his. "Chatted on the phone with this hot girl I know."

"Lucky girl." You pull his chin up and kiss him hungrily, your tongue sliding into his mouth. He moans and moves his to meet it. His hands go still as he hangs onto you and you slowly start to rock against him.

"Don't get hard," you breathe against his mouth.

He lets out a stuttering laugh. "I'm only human, babe. You doing—that—is gonna lead to a hard dick every time."

"Mmmm I should stop, then. We have a movie to watch."

He bites your lower lip. Tugs. "Whatever you want, princess. I am at your service."

Oh. You like that. "Hm," you say as you slide off his lap. "Maybe if you're a good boy I'll suck your cock during the movie."

He sits up. "I'll be good! I swear! So good! The best!"