MELT WITH YOU

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The summer of 1986 you came home from college, not quite sure if you would be going back in the fall. You knew your parents would flip if they knew you were considering dropping out, but you just weren’t sure college was what you wanted. In fact, you were uncertain about what you wanted in general, hitting your quarter life crisis early and hard. But there was one thing you had recently come to realize you did want, something you were finally sure about. And they would probably flip if they knew that too. Because the thing you wanted was a relationship with Eddie Munson. 

Eddie fuckin’ Munson. Your parents hated him on sight, but you had an on-and-off crush on him for all of high school, which you knew was sometimes mutual. Scruffy, freaky, obnoxious Eddie Munson, who was supposed to graduate two years ago with you but had only just now gotten around to it. 

You were so annoyed with him when you found out he wasn't graduating on schedule. He didn't just read books, he devoured them. He'd skip three days of class a week and still have a better grasp on the material than you did. Any time there was a test, he'd finish first, so fast you couldn't believe he even answered all the questions, then he'd "go to the bathroom" and disappear for the rest of the day. When the tests got passed back, he'd often get an A. But all the aced tests in the world couldn't save him from gradebooks filled with 0’s from missing assignments and his horrible attendance record. He came to graduation anyway and wolf-whistled when you walked across the stage, mortifying your mother and enraging your father. 

The last time you had seen him was at the end of that summer, after spending the majority of the long, hot days with him. Sometimes with other friends, sometimes alone. Swimming in Lover's Lake. Smoking weed in his bedroom, taking shrooms in the woods. Sitting in the van with your bare feet on his dashboard while he made a quick deal to fund the rentals for a horror movie marathon. Sneaking him into your house while your mother was at aerobics class to play Atari with you in the basement. Laying on a beach towel, hair full of lemon juice and peroxide, basking in the sun on Gareth's driveway during band practice. A couple days before you had to leave for school, you hung out with Eddie for the last time, for who knew how long. Part of you worried it might be the last time ever, your fear of change gnawing at you, so you showed up at the trailer before he was even awake and spent the entire day with him, trying to make it perfect, doing all the you-and-Eddie things. 

Standing on your porch at the end of the night, Eddie jammed his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet.

"Why do you gotta have dreams and shit, man? Going off to Chicago to be a hotshot and leaving your poor old buddy Munsie Edson in this fuckin’ dump," he said, referring to himself by the silly spoonerist nickname you gave him three years prior. 

"Maybe if poor old Munsie had done a book report or a worksheet now and then, he could be coming with me." 

You punched his shoulder playfully and he reached up and grabbed your wrist.

"Eddie, what are you -?" You'd started to ask, but before you could get your whole question out, he pulled you to him and kissed you. It was startling. It was chaste. It was brief. But it was also amazing, his warm plush lips sending a shockwave through your entire body. You would’ve slumped to the concrete if he hadn’t wound his other arm around your waist, the hand that grabbed your wrist still encircling it like a bracelet, surely able to feel the acceleration of your pulse. 

He pulled back and opened his mouth to say something else to you, brown eyes glistening under the porch light, just as your father opened the front door. 

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “It’s 11:01. You’re late.”

“Nope. I’ve been standing here since 10:55, Dad. Or is the porch not considered part of the house?” You glared at him through the screen door.

He said your name in a warning tone, but you waved him away.

“What are you gonna do? Ground me for two days before I leave?”

“Five more minutes. Or I’m calling the police to report a trespasser,” Dad said before ducking back into the dark living room and closing the front door.

“He’s standing right on the other side of the door, isn’t he?” Eddie asked.

“Probably,” you confirmed.

“Well… Call me when you get to Chicago. Good luck up there. Don’t forget about me.” He gave you a sad smile. You knew that wasn’t what he was originally going to say, but you didn’t feel comfortable pushing him to share, separated from your father by only the mesh of the screen door and two inches of wood. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” you said instead. 

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, then made his way down your front porch steps, heading towards his van, parked down the street to hide his presence from your parents, not that it had worked.

“Hey, wait!” you called after him. He stopped and turned to face you. “You better fuckin’ graduate this year. If you’re not in Chicago with me next fall, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Eddie snapped his feet together, coming to attention. He raised a stiff hand to his forehead in a salute, before flipping you off and blowing a raspberry.

“Asshole!” You shouted. 

“That’s your favorite thing about me, Valley Girl!” he returned over his shoulder. Then he got in his van and drove away, music blaring. 

You stayed on the porch, hand to your lips. That damn nickname. You’d tried to get him to watch the movie with you so many times when it came out last year, thinking maybe if he saw it he would take the hint. He never agreed to get tickets or rent it, but he teased you relentlessly about how much you liked the movie, not knowing you liked it because it reminded you of you and him. You stood there until Eddie’s tail lights were gone and you couldn’t hear the squealing of guitars through his open windows anymore. 

You didn’t forget about Eddie, as if that was even a possibility. You called him a couple times a week, in the evenings when you needed a break from homework. You asked him once what he had intended to say that night on the porch, but all he'd given you was an unconvincing uh, I don't remember. You missed him desperately, and were intent on staying close to him. Then midterms came and you had to spend every waking moment studying, or reading, or writing 5,000 words about how Kant was a piece of shit. Things didn’t slow down as much as you hoped after midterms and you were embarrassed about how long it took you to call Eddie again, so you kept putting it off, getting more embarrassed every day. You knew it was stupid, and you knew he’d forgive you…eventually. 

You couldn’t make yourself do it. Couldn’t hold the receiver to your ear and hear his hurt as he told you the exact number of days since the last time you called him. Couldn’t listen to him explain his latest DnD campaign and picture him squatting on his chair like a gargoyle in a holey Mercyful Fate t-shirt. Couldn’t let his velvety voice and the faint sound of him plucking his unplugged guitar wash over you and make you tingly the way it always did, not when you’d been hooking up with a reedy-sounding philosophy major for two weeks.

That last thing played a bigger part than you would admit to yourself. Hindsight would soon make it excruciatingly obvious, but at the time you refused to feel the icky mixed feelings. Eddie had kissed you and then had some kind of declaration interrupted. There was really only one thing he could have wanted to say. Something you'd been hoping to hear him say forever. But he hadn't fuckin' graduated. He was in Hawkins and you were in Chicago, and he missed his chance to ask you to wait for him. You felt like you should move on, onto someone nearby, someone who understood college life. There was no shortage of punks and metalheads and other types of men your parents wouldn't approve of at the university. They were funny, smart, creative, and handsome, all things they had in common with him. Yet when you held them up against him, they paled in comparison every time. How could you ever give any of these guys a real chance with Eddie fucking Munson in your ear?

Your parents took you skiing for Christmas. You went to Florida with your girlfriends for spring break. At the end of your freshman year you were exhausted, completely over the whole college thing. It was a bad choice, a choice that ultimately led you to consider dropping out, but at the time it seemed like a good idea to take classes all summer and get your credits as quickly as humanly possible. You hadn't been back to Hawkins since you left in September of '84. 

By the spring of '86 you were officially classified as a junior, and one more summer of classes could’ve gotten you your diploma in three years instead of four. Even that felt way too long. As soon as you first thought about dropping out you knew in your heart you were going to, but you weren’t ready to admit it to yourself quite yet. You decided to take the summer off. Go home. Lie in your childhood bed in your underwear under the ceiling fan, eating popsicles all day. See if three months of relaxing could convince you to come back and earn that stupid fucking BFA.

On the last Sunday of the semester you plopped into the armchair next to the phone in the fourth floor common room. Finals made the place a ghost town, it was the first time you hadn’t had to wait to use the phone all semester. When you tried to think Eddie's number to yourself, it felt wrong, like maybe you had transposed it in your mind somehow, but your muscles remembered. You dialed the number effortlessly, the other side ringing before you even fully realized what your fingers were doing. 

“Munson residence,” a haggard voice with a Kentucky lilt answered.

“Hi, Uncle Wayne,” you said.

“Well, I’ll be damned. She lives.” 

While Eddie took it to much greater extremes than Wayne, there was no doubting where he got his biting sarcasm from.  

“She sure does. How have you been?”

“Same as ever I guess, ‘cept I’m shift supervisor at the plant now. How’s school?”

“That’s great, Wayne! School… Sucks, if I’m honest. But I’m coming home for the summer in a couple of days. That’s why I called. To see if Eddie –”

You stopped short, the screen door on the trailer banging closed over the phone. 

“Oh, sorry," you heard Eddie say. "I didn’t know you were on the phone.” 

God, it was good to hear his voice, even tiny and talking to someone else. Your heart hammered against your ribs and a smile spread involuntarily across your face. You really should have called him before now.

“That’s okay, kid. It’s for you.” 

Wayne said something to Eddie you couldn’t make out, then the telltale shuffling sounds of the phone being handed over gave way to Eddie’s voice, bigger, directed at you.

“So you remembered how a telephone works,” he said. Fucking Munson sarcasm. 

“I think so! Can you hear me? Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah, I can hear you, you traitorous wench. Midterms are so much work, Eddie. I promise I’ll call you the second they’re over. Been taking those midterms for 15 months?”

You sighed. “Go ahead. Let it all out, I deserve it. And I want it out of your system by Friday night.”

“What’s Friday night?”

“I’m coming home for the summer. I’ll be back Friday afternoon.”  

“You will?” He said, a boyish hopefulness in his tone. Then he corrected course, voice deepening in an affectation of apathy. “Well, Friday is the last Hellfire night of the year. I actually have plans all weekend already.”

You knew from your time as a member that Hellfire wasn’t allowed to run later than 8:30, and there was no fucking way Eddie Munson was calling it a night on Friday before 1am on Saturday. Planning his weekend was also very unlike Eddie… Unless there was someone he was going out of his way for. Was he bluffing, or did he have a girlfriend? If he was seeing someone, you had no room to be jealous, and no one to blame but yourself. 

“Oh. Well, we have the whole summer, if you ever have an afternoon to kill or something,” you said, trying not to sound deflated. You made your bed, you had to lie in it. 

“Yeah, we’ll probably run into each other eventually.”

“For sure.”

An awkward silence fell, Eddie so quiet on his end of the line that you wondered if he didn’t hang up. There was no dial tone, but you couldn’t hear anything at all. Just as you were about to say his name, you heard him inhale, deeply.

“Uh, you know… We play The Hideout on Tuesday nights now.”

“A weekly gig!?” You squealed, forgetting the weirdness of the conversation for a moment in your excitement. “That’s so great, Munsie.” 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He said, barking a laugh. 

“Munsie fuckin’ Edson! I still think of you by that name all the time.”

“You think of me all the time, huh?”

“Fuck yeah,” you said, probably too earnestly. “I really have been busy, but I’ve also been embarrassed. I took so long to call you back, and…” And I thought I'd get over you if we stopped talking, but I still haven't.

“And what?”

“It’s just… Not all it’s cracked up to be, here. Chicago is great but I never get to see it because I’m always in a fuckin’ classroom or the library or something. I think I might drop out.” That was the first time you’d said it out loud.

“Oh, so I gotta graduate high school but you don’t gotta graduate college?”

“Yeah, ‘cause high school’s the –.” 

“Bare fuckin’ minimum.” He finished your sentence with you, and you both laughed. 

“Well I’ll have to come by The Hideout on a Tuesday. Weekly gig! So sick.” 

 "Thanks, Valley Girl,” he said.

The first Tuesday you were back in Hawkins, you got dressed up in something low cut and headed to The Hideout. On your way out the door you’d gotten into an argument with your father. He wanted you home by 11, your old curfew. You looked at him and laughed. I’ll be home when I get home, you told him. When you arrived the size of the crowd surprised you. A couple of bands from Indy were playing too, traveling to dives around Indiana, and apparently they were dragging quite the caravan of fans behind them. You wound up standing with your ass pressed against a pool table, way further from the stage than you had hoped, but your heels gave you enough lift for an okay view. 

When Eddie walked onto the stage he took your breath away. In the almost two years since you’d seen him, he hadn’t gotten any taller, but he’d come into his height, lost all his gangliness, gained muscle you never expected to see on him. His hair was the longest it had ever been, loose spirals hanging down over his shoulders, and his bare arms were decorated with several tattoos that were new to you. Under the harsh stage lights you could see stubble in the shape of a goatee. The Eddie you’d known couldn’t grow facial hair at all. This Eddie was a man. And this Eddie could fucking shred. He’d always been good at guitar, but you’d never seen his fingers move so quickly over the fretboard, never seen him trust himself so much as a performer. Just like on the phone, you felt the weight of how fuckin’ stupid you’d been not to call him. Jesus Christ, he was dreamy. 

When their blistering set came to an end you tried like hell to battle the crowd and get to him, but The Hideout simply wasn’t meant to have that many people inside it. By the time you got to the stage Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin were nowhere to be seen. You went out the loading door next to the stage and saw his van backed up to the building, but the doors were closed and the lights inside were off. You didn’t see Jeff or Gareth or anyone you recognized around, so you dug in your purse for a stick of gum and a pen. Popping the candy in your mouth, you scribbled on the wrapper – Munsie! Great show tonight. Sorry I missed you after. ♥️ Valley Girl – and tucked it under his windshield wiper. 

The next Monday afternoon you were sprawled on the couch half-watching TV when the phone rang one single ring. Eddie's old trick to avoid talking to your parents when he called. You sprang off the couch and seized the receiver, calling him back so fast your fingers blurred.

“Jesus, were you sittin’ on top of the phone?” He answered

“No! I just know I’m like, on probation with regards to phone calls,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“I got your little parking ticket. Why didn’t I see you?” You struggled to interpret his tone. Was he amused? Annoyed?

"The crowd kept me towards the back all night. By the time I got anywhere near the stage, I couldn't find you."

"That crowd was kinda crazy, huh? Biggest we’ve ever played for. But it probably won’t be like that again. Usually if they book a touring band the crowd is like, even smaller than normal. If that’s fuckin’ possible.” He chuckled as he spoke. A good sign. 

“Oh, so if I come again tomorrow I’ll get a private show?” You asked.

“You just might, Valley Girl.”

"Then I'll definitely be there," you said. Then you remembered something. "Oh hey, uh– How much for a quarter ounce?"

"When have you ever had to pay for grass from me, Sweetheart?" Hmm. Sweetheart. Was that condescending? Or genuine?

"Never, but I just thought since uh –"

"It's still free," Eddie cut you off. "But only if you hang out with me after the show. We can get burgers or something, maybe drive out to the lake." 

"Okay. For sure."

“Good. If you don’t, it’s a hundred bucks.”

“A hundred for a quarter!?” You tried to sound scandalized, but you couldn’t help but laugh, relieved to hear him tell a joke.

“Damn, that is pretty expensive, huh? Guess you better make sure it stays free,” he said, laughing too. 

You spent the next 27 hours after getting off the phone with him overthinking. Last week you had the upper hand, the element of surprise. He may or may not have been anticipating you showing up, but he obviously wasn’t planning for it. Now he knew you were coming to this one, and had the same 27 hours to prepare. It was comforting that he wanted you to hang out afterwards badly enough to come up with a silly threat, and a very pleasant surprise that your weed would still be free. That probably – hopefully – meant he didn’t have a girlfriend. But there were those moments when you didn’t know how to take him. How mad was he? How hard would it be to earn his trust again? 

Arriving at The Hideout you thought you might really be in for a private show. Eddie’s van and Jeff’s faded red El Camino were in the parking lot with only one other car. Inside was totally empty, except for the bartender resting his face on his fist, leaning over a book. If you hadn’t seen him turn a page, you might’ve thought he was asleep. The stage was all set up with Gareth’s drums and Eddie’s big black Fender amp covered in homemade stickers, but the Corroded Coffin boys were nowhere to be seen. 

You situated yourself at the opposite end of the bar from the bartender, struggling to tuck the skirt of your short dress underneath you. He slowly finished the page he was reading, then flipped the book facedown on the bar top. You were watching him fill a glass with Pabst Blue Ribbon for you when you felt a tap on your left shoulder. On instinct you looked to your right, where Eddie stood just behind you, in a Misfits t-shirt with the sleeves chopped off, armholes cut enormous, unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. 

“You didn’t really think you’d get me with that, did you?” 

“It has been like two years."

"Which is only like, half as long as you spent training me to never fuckin' fall for that!" 

The bartender brought your beer over, placing the glass on a square napkin. “Pabst,” he said as he sat it down. You tried to pay him but Eddie put his hand over yours.

"She's with the band, man," He said. The bartender nodded and walked away, so you folded the money in your hand and dropped it in the tip jar instead. “Since when do you drink PBR? I thought it was carbonated cat piss?”

“Oh it is. I’ve just become numb to how vile it is at this point. You look good, Munsie. Not so scrawny anymore.” You reached out and squeezed his forearm. “The long hair works for you.”

He smirked, cheek dimpling on one side. 

“You look good too. Course you were always the prettiest girl in Hawkins, so…” He shrugged and took your glass from you, tucking his cig behind his ear before stealing a big sip. Your cheeks burned and your stomach flooded with butterflies.

“Oh, for sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

Then Gareth appeared next to Eddie. He greeted you warmly before dragging Eddie away for soundcheck. 

You didn’t get a private show. Not long after soundcheck people began to trickle in, thankfully nowhere near as many as the week before, but a decent crowd. It could have been your imagination, but their set felt even more face melting than last week, not like just Eddie was showing off, although he definitely was, but like they all had gotten better somehow in just the last seven days. This time it was easy to approach the stage after they finished, and Eddie put you to work wrapping cords into coils and packing them into a crate. 

“Is there anything else you want me to help with?” You asked when you finished. 

“Nope. You’ve helped a ton, Valley Girl. Carry that out there and you can just hang in the van until we’re all packed.” He held out his keys and you shifted the crate to one hip to take them, but when you tried to grab them he moved them out of your reach. You glared at him witheringly and he handed you the keys for real, laughing. And you laughed too because it was so stupid and normal, like it had always been before. He still trusted you with his keys! An honor few others could boast of.  

You put the crate of cords in the back before sliding into the passenger seat and starting the engine, bracing yourself for how loud you knew the radio was about to be. It wasn’t much longer than five minutes until you heard Eddie tell his bandmates goodbye as he closed the cargo doors. He climbed in on his side, now sporting a denim vest with rough cut arm holes to match the ones on his shirt underneath. 

The streets of Hawkins were practically deserted as the van rolled through town towards the lake. Eddie regaled you with the tale of the last Hellfire campaign, only pausing to order burgers and milkshakes in a drive thru, telling you about the new freshmen he mentored and training Gareth to take over as DM and club president. 

“Wait, why is Gareth taking over?” you asked.

“I’m 21 now. They kick you out of school if you’re 21,” Eddie said solemnly. Then his whole demeanor changed. “Not that that matters to me, because I’m fuckin’ graduating!”

“You are!?” 

“Fuck yeah, I am!”

“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you! I knew you could fuckin’ do it!” You reached across the center console to squeeze his thigh, and he dropped a hand off the steering wheel to rest on  yours. 

When you got to Lover’s Lake, Eddie parked in the woods with the back of the van pointed towards the water. He opened the doors and spread a blanket on the part of the floor not occupied by amps and instruments, a somewhat comfortable place for the two of you to sit side by side and enjoy the view. The moon shone brightly on the rippling surface of the lake and the soft amber glow of the interior lights of the van spilled out onto the grass.

Eddie produced an expertly rolled joint from his old metal lunch box and handed it to you, flicking the lighter for you as you held it between your lips. The night air felt oddly still as you looked into his big brown eyes and took the first drag. The evening had gone surprisingly smoothly so far, so much like those last few days before you left in ‘84, almost as if no time had passed at all. 

“Excuse me! That was definitely a third puff with no pass,” you scolded Eddie when he started hogging the joint. 

“Oh, really?” he said, taking another long drag.

“Yes, really! You dick!” You slapped at him playfully. 

“Come and take it from me then.”

You reached for the joint and Eddie held it out of your reach, just like he had with the keys. You huffed at him and tried again. He put it in his mouth and curled away from you, holding his vest over himself like a curtain as he took another drag.

“Five! Five puffs! That’s a major party foul, Munson!” 

When he turned back to you he was fighting a smile. He snorted half a laugh and smoke spilled from his nose like he was a dragon. 

“Okay, Smaug,” you said, making him snort out another puff of smoke. 

Then he reached out with the hand not holding the joint to touch your face. He gently squeezed your cheeks and your mouth fell slightly open. Eddie leaned in, blowing smoke into your lungs. You inhaled deeply, and as your chest filled with air, your loins filled with blood, your clit suddenly echoing your heartbeat. 

“Happy now, Sweetheart?” He asked with a wolfish grin. 

“No! You owe me at least one more.”

Eddie gave you another breath, and then another after that. Then he handed you the joint and you shotgunned your smoke to him. Your lips brushed, lingered, and stuck together as you shared the smoke, walking right up to it, but never crossing the line into an actual kiss. 

“So,” Eddie said when the joint had burned down too small even for the roach clip he’d dug out of his pocket. “The ceremony’s on Saturday. I have an extra ticket if you wanna come.”

“Of course I wanna come! I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Munsie.”

“You can sit next to Wayne. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

“I’ll be glad to see him too,” you said. “You know he gave me shit when I called?”

“Good,” Eddie chuckled, putting a hand on your head and ruffling your hair.  

You reached over and ruffled his back, running your fingers through the length and gently untangling a knot you caught near the ends. Neither of you spoke for a minute, looking at the reflection of the moon on the water through the trees, each thinking your own stoned thoughts. If you were going to make a move, you needed to do it now, and it needed to be bold, something that let him know how badly you really wanted him, how sorry you were. You let the cannabis cloud in your brain carry your inhibitions away.

“You know…” you said. Eddie looked at you with raised eyebrows. 

You slipped out of the back of the van over the bumper and took a step away. 

“You deserve a really good graduation present,” you told him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I have just the thing in mind.” 

You took a couple more paces away from Eddie and the van, heels sinking into the soft earth slightly as you walked. 

"What are you doing?" He asked. 

You didn't answer, you just turned to face him and reached under your dress. He watched you with a curious expression that quickly turned to shock and then undisguised lust as he realized you were pulling your underwear down. You maneuvered them over your boots and stepped out of them. Then you came forward, walking back towards the van with the garment hanging from your finger by one leg hole. You got close to Eddie, thighs pressing against his knees. Gathering the denim of his vest in the hand not holding your underwear, you opened that side away from his body, and tucked your panties into his interior pocket. 

"Jesus, shit. Is that what you've been learning in Chicago, Valley Girl?" His voice was breathless and his eyes were wide. 

"Among other things," you replied, grabbing the other lapel of his vest with your free hand and pulling him closer. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and put his hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You stayed like that for a moment, then Eddie's hands moved, sliding from your hips to the small of your back, down over your ass, slipping under the hem of your dress to grab two naked handfuls. He kneaded and squeezed and pulled you apart, making you hum.

"What class do they teach that in, hmm?" He growled. "Is that why you didn't fuckin' call me? You were too busy studying other guys?"

Embarrassed heat flushed more places than just your face. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry."

"You think you can just stuff your panties in my pocket and all is forgiven?" 

"I hoped it would be a start." 

"What else are you gonna do to make it up to me?"  

Eddie parted his legs and pulled you between them, the increased proximity making the tips of your noses touch. You felt hot arousal ooze out of you and quickly cool in the breeze off the lake. With your eyes cast down, you could see that the moment was having the same effect on him.

"Whatever it takes," you whispered.

You couldn’t say who initiated it, but you were kissing him then, eager, and getting more so, the release of years of tension making you sloppy. You released his vest in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. Your pussy wept between your legs as the kiss deepened and you sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth. Eddie brought his right hand from your ass down the back of your thigh, to the front and then the inside, wedging it between your legs. 

“Can I?” He asked into your mouth.

“I want you to, so bad.”  

The hand between your legs came up to cup your vulva, big enough to more than cover the whole thing. He rubbed the outside, back and forth, without parting your lips. You twisted slightly so your side was pressed against his chest instead of your front, your bare ass on his left thigh, to give him a better angle. After what felt like 100 years of teasing, he finally let one finger separate you, then two, sliding wetly. But the teasing had only just begun. He found your clit and ghosted his fingers over it, tracing barely-there circles that drove you insane. 

“Go inside,” you whimpered.

“You want me inside you?” 

“Please, Eddie.” 

“How many other guys have you had inside you?” He asked as he plunged his middle finger in, all the way to his palm. Your knees nearly buckled, but Eddie held you up, and you brought your arms around his waist for more stability, slithering under his vest.

“It doesn’t matter,” you groaned. 

“How many?” He asked again, adding his ring finger and making you gasp.

“Four! But I always wished they were you.”

“Don’t try to flatter me.”

“Eddie, I’m – I’m n – not,” you struggled to say as he found the right spot. “Oh my god, right there.”

You pressed your face to his chest to muffle the moans you were struggling to keep quiet, keenly aware that there might be other people in the woods around the lake. He smelled so good, smokey and sweaty from being on stage, with a familiar woody cologne scent underneath. He shifted subtly, not grinding against you, just pressing himself into your hip. 

“It’s not flattery,” you said again, trying to compose yourself while still riding his fingers, heel of his hand rhythmically bumping your clit. “That’s – That’s why I couldn’t… I couldn’t call you because I – I was trying to get o – over you. Oh my god, Eddie, fuck!” 

“I thought you stopped because you were already over me,” he said. The insecurity in his words was totally at odds with the confidence the movements of his hand exuded, fingers curling right where you needed them as if he was born with the knowledge. 

“Not… Not at all. I was up – upset that you didn’t ask me… Fuck . Ask me to wait for you, or – or – or be your girlfriend. I’m so close!” 

You turned your face back to his chest, biting the fabric of his t-shirt in a futile attempt to quiet yourself. Eddie groaned your name against your ear and shifted his pelvis against you again, his cock feeling as hard as a rock through his jeans, and that was your undoing. You came hard, legs shaking violently, pussy gushing around his fingers. He kept going until you couldn’t take it anymore, putting your hand flat on his forearm and pushing him away. He dragged his hand over your thigh as he removed it, leaving a sticky wet trail. 

“Holy shit, Valley Girl,” he huffed and kissed the top of your head as you slumped against him, one arm still draped around his waist.

“That fuckin’ movie…” you said weakly.

“You wanted me to watch it because it reminded you of us.” 

“How do you know that?” You willed your legs to regrow their bones so you could stand on your own and look at him. 

“I watched it. When you had midterms. I knew you were workin' really hard, I thought it would make you smile if I finally watched it.” He shook his head and let out a sad little chuckle.

“Oh no. Oh, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I felt so bad about not calling you back right away, I didn’t want to face you being hurt by how long I took and it fuckin’ snowballed. And there was this guy who was interested in me, and when I asked you what you wanted to say that night on the porch you said you didn’t remember, so I thought you changed your mind about me…”

“I just didn’t wanna hold you back. I didn’t fuckin’ graduate, I didn’t wanna make you the sexy, cool college girl with the shitty high school boyfriend. You deserved better, but I… I wanted my cake and to eat it too. Like, I just hoped that you would wait even though I didn’t say anything. I hated thinking of you with some preppy douchebag with a fuckin’ sweater tied around his shoulders.”

“Ew, gag me! I would never! Swear to God, all the guys I went out with were total freaks.” You put your right hand over your heart to indicate the seriousness of your vow and Eddie laughed. 

“As freaky as me?” He asked.

“Not as anything as you, Munsie.” 

" Fuck, dude," he sighed, pulling you back into a hug. “I should’ve just said what I wanted to say on your porch, huh? Saved us both the trouble.”

“Why don’t you just say it now?”

“Well…” He leaned back to look at your face. He tilted his head and grinned an evil grin. “Are you done making it up to me yet?”

“No," you said. You put your hand on his thigh right next to where his jeans were stretched taut over his cock, kneading the muscle, dangerously close. "I don't think I'll be done for a long time. Maybe never." 

Eddie groaned and dropped his head back, exposing the gorgeous column of his neck, almost glowing in the moonlight. You pressed your tongue flat against the base of this throat, pulling the collar of his shirt down with the hand not teasing him, and licked all the way up to his ear, swirling your tongue along the seashell of cartilage before biting his earlobe gently. 

“Ugh, I oughta send the guy who taught you that flowers,” he said with a weak laugh.

“A girl taught me that,” you whispered, mouth still right next to his ear.   

“Jesus Christ." 

You kissed along his jaw, in awe of his skin up close, ghostly pale but still somehow faintly freckled, and surprisingly soft. You had spent two years picturing him, and you had not been doing him justice. When you made it to his lips they were warm and parted, waiting for you. This time the kiss was less hurried, less wild, but no less passionate. As you melted into his lips, you slowly rotated until you were facing away from him, ass in his lap, leaning and twisting back to keep kissing him. You swayed and swiveled your hips, giving him a silent lap dance. His hands came from behind you to rest on your hips, grab your thighs, rub your stomach, cup your tits over your dress until you guided them down inside the neckline. The rings on his left hand were so cold against your nipples.

"I wanna feel you so bad, Baby," Eddie groaned behind you. 

"Feel? Or fill?" You asked.

"Fuuuuck. Both. But I was too stupid to bring a condom. I didn't think this… I didn't think it would go like this."

"Well, I was really hoping it would," you reassured him with a giggle. “There's one in my bag.”

He stretched to where you’d left your purse on top of an amp, and handed it to you. You fished the little foil packet out of the safety of a zippered pocket and heard Eddie unbuckle his belt. God, what a sexy sound, a sound you would play in your memory when you thought of him for days afterwards. You turned around to watch as he stood up just enough to pull his pants and underwear down together. 

Seeing his cock for the first time blew your mind. While the two of you danced around each other, you'd both sometimes seen other people. You hadn't gone any further than closed mouth makeouts until you got to college, but he had, and you heard the rumors that Eddie the Freak was a big boy. You had dismissed them, not because you thought they were implausible, but because you wanted to find out for yourself without expectations. Now you were finding the rumors gloriously true. He was certainly above average, and he somehow managed to have a dick as beautifully sculpted as the rest of him. 

"Wow," you whispered as you rolled the condom down his length.

He laughed a deep, huffy laugh. "Wow, what, Valley Girl?" 

“ All of you is so pretty.” You wrapped your hand around his cock and stroked it slowly. Eddie sighed heavily and pressed his hips up into your hand.

“You think I’m pretty?” 

“Duh, have you seen yourself?”

“Yeah,” he laughed again. “But I’ve also seen you. I, mmm, I wasn’t joking when I said you were the p – prettiest girl in Hawkins.”

“Shut up,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. 

As you sucked on his tongue and squeezed his cock, you moved to climb into his lap, hiking your dress with your free hand and planting one knee beside him on the van’s bumper. Before you could bring the other leg up and straddle him fully, he was gently pushing you away.

“Wait. Can you go back to how you were earlier? Uh, facing away from me?” He asked.

“Okay, Munsie,” you said, bringing your leg down from the bumper and turning around. 

Eddie spread his legs wide and brought you between them. You leaned forward, arching your back. You felt his cold rings again as he pushed your dress up to the small of your back, and pulled you even closer, his cock bumping against your naked ass. He lined himself up, but waited for you to give the go ahead to push inside. When he did you slammed your hand over your mouth, trying desperately to stay quiet, once again remembering there might be other people nearby. He was stretching you so much, you couldn’t believe you were actually able to take it. 

You kept your eyes pinched closed and took deep breaths through your nose as you began slowly rocking your hips, your ass dragging against the smooth skin of his thighs and stomach. Eddie's hands resumed their wandering, squeezing, groping, massaging everywhere he could reach. You looked over your shoulder at him, a massive misstep in your quest to stay quiet. The sight of him with faintly pink cheeks, slack jaw, and tense brows was one to behold, causing you to clench and have to compress a pornographic moan into a mere whimper. 

His hands came to your hips to encourage you to speed up. As you complied with his urging, you angled yourself differently and suddenly he was there, hitting a spot you didn’t even know you had, so deep it was like he was touching your soul. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your mouth, biting down on the web between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“ Fuck,” he panted, curling his fingers into your cheek, grabbing you as you bit him. 

You hummed through your teeth around his hand, and he used his grip on you to pull you back, leaning against him with your head tilted back onto his shoulder. Eddie planted his free hand firmly just above your pubic mound, making sure you didn’t slide off his lap, and the pressure amplified all the sensations of him being inside. He tucked his chin to his chest to press his lips against your forehead, kissing you and moaning quietly against your skin. It was all starting to overwhelm you, starting to be too much, way, way too much. Then Eddie groaned your name and you lost yourself, forgetting all about anyone else who might be on the lake, crying into his hand over your mouth. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted as your orgasm triggered his. 

You stilled other than the lingering convulsions from cumming so hard, but Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist in a tight hug and flexed his hips to keep fucking you until he was so overstimulated it hurt, whimpering as he finally relaxed under you. You attempted to lean forward to let him slip out, but his arms around your waist kept you in place. 

“Wait,” he said breathlessly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You laughed and intentionally squeezed around his cock, making him inhale sharply.

“I’d be honored.”

Eddie drove you back to The Hideout to collect your car. You stayed in the front seat of the van with him a long time, not wanting the night to end, leaning over to kiss him just one more time. He took the smallest ring he was wearing and slid it down the length of each of your fingers, deciding where it fit best. You tried to give it back and he made a comically exaggerated sad face. 

“You’re breaking up with me already?” He whined, working hard to sound pathetic. 

“Of course not!” You reassured him with a laugh.

“Then you better keep that. If you’re my girl, you gotta wear my rings.”

“Okay, Munsie. I’d be happy to wear it.”

When you finally did get in your car, you stopped to admire the ring at every stoplight, beaming with pride to finally be Eddie Munson’s girlfriend. 

On Saturday morning you dressed nicely, did your makeup, and slid on Eddie’s ring before driving to the high school. You found Wayne, the two Corroded Coffin members not graduating that day, and the three freshman Eddie told you about in the parking lot, before you climbed to your seats in the bleachers around the football field. When Principal Higgins leaned into the microphone and called Edward David Munson, your little group exploded into cheers, applause, and whistles. Eddie didn’t flip Higgins off like he’d so often promised to do, but he did stick his tongue out as the photographer snapped the picture of them shaking hands.

A week later you finally got Eddie and your parents to agree to dinner together so they could see what he was really like instead of judging him for his leather and chains. He appeared on your front porch with a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a bottle of whiskey for your father. He didn't manage to completely charm them, but they accepted the relationship enough that he could come in through the front door instead of the sneaking you’d done two summers prior. 

You still hadn’t told them you wanted to drop out, or figured out what you would do instead of going back. But the whole summer stretched ahead of you, full of possibilities, time to think, endless days going on sweet dates and enjoying the sun, and nights laying naked and sticky with sweat, limbs intertwined, sharing a spliff in Eddie’s bed between rounds.