Chapter Text
The first time you had kissed him, Eddie was almost sure he’d accidentally smoked a laced joint and had hallucinated the whole thing. Then, you’d snuck your hand into his hair and tugged his neck back. If that hadn’t been enough to turn him on, you had bit down on his neck – worrying the skin between your lips -- and Eddie was halfway in love.
His day had started normally. He’d spent all day in his mind-numbingly boring classes, eating lunch while terrorizing the cafeteria, sold some bud, and planned his next campaign. He didn’t think this was where he’d be by the end of it.
He promised Rick that he’d sell the rest of his stock to make room for some new stuff coming in next week. The best customers were none other than the seniors of Hawkins High. Fortunately for him, it was also the week of Halloween. While he normally wouldn’t be caught dead at any school dance, he knew it was his best bet. He’d hang around for an hour, sell out, and go home a happy guy. Maybe pick up some pizza and a movie for the night.
“Dude, I didn’t know you were here selling,” Jeff, his fellow Hellfire Club member, said just as he’d stepped into the gym.
“What are you dressed as?” Eddie asked, eyeing his outfit.
“Tommy Lee!” Jeff grinned at him, pulling out a pair of drumsticks. Eddie nodded, offering up his fist.
“That’s sick,” he said, glancing around the room. He caught a few odd stares, ignoring them, and a good amount of interested ones.
“Do me a favor dude,” Eddie, grabbed Jeff’s sleeve before his date could steal him away. “Spread the word that I’ve got some stuff to sell.”
Jeff shot the chaperone’s a look before nodding. “I got you man,” he slapped Eddie’s back before going off to the dance floor.
Eddie stationed himself at the edge of the bleachers, mostly hidden by some decorations. He grinned when a basketball player approached him after a few minutes. Typical.
“What are you supposed to be?” Eddie snorted, glancing at the pathetic costume.
“A cowboy,” the guy – Nick? Adam? – sneered. “You got any or what?”
“Or what,” Eddie muttered, handing him a small bag. “Same price.”
The cowboy handed him two pairs of freshly printed, crisp bills. “Pleasure doing business,” Eddie tilted his imaginary hat. Without a word, the cowboy turned on his heel and walked away. Oh the irony of being outcast by the top tier only to have them crawl to him for their needs.
Thirty minutes later, Eddie was all but sold out. He had two joints left but he knew he could smoke through them if he didn’t have any more buyers. Eddie ran a sweaty hand through his hair, why did the gym always feel like it was a thousand degrees, and caught sight of a teacher walking in his direction.
Without preamble, he ducked under the bleachers and waited her out.
“Munson?” A voice called out. Eddie whipped around, startled out of his fucking mind – who hell hides under the bleachers?
“Jesus fucking Christ Harrington, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Eddie said, clutching at his heart dramatically. If he was going to be over the top, why stop because he was hiding?
Steve laughed, as if that was the most hilarious joke he’d ever heard. “Uh, Harrington?” Eddie called out, taking a few steps towards him. Steve was leaning against the wall, his legs sprawled and expression akin to someone who’d lost their puppy. As Eddie bent down, he wrinkled his nose. “Shit, Harrington, that’s some shitty tequila.”
“You want some?” He said, perking up. Eddie winced as his arm smacked into his side, the bottle sloshing. Eddie picked it out his hand before he could spill anymore. He sniffed it experimentally and shrugged, why not? He took a swig and fought the urge to spit it out. That, is why not, he thought to himself, gagging.
“This tastes like lighter fluid,” Eddie told him, “and I’m not exactly known for having refined taste.”
Steve grinned. “Good shit, right?”
“That was not a compliment,” Eddie told him, standing up. “Why are you piss drunk, dressed like Mario, at a school dance? Isn’t there somewhere, I don’t know, with less supervision that you could be doing this?”
“Nope,” Steve said, popping his lips obnoxiously. “Love sucks, man.”
Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d heard that King Steve had broken up with the perfect Nancy Wheeler. He had a hard time believing that someone like Harrington couldn’t get another date, he drove around a BMW for shit’s sake.
“Hey, do you have any….” Steve trailed off, looking confused.
“Weed?”
Steve brightened, snapping his fingers and missing. “Yeah!”
“It’s your lucky day Harrington, I’ve got two joints left,” Eddie said, tossing one into his hands.
It took him a minute, but Steve handed him a few crumpled bills from the front pocket of his denim overalls. Eddie tried really hard not to contemplate his life.
“Steve Harrington!” A new, distinctly annoyed, voice cried out. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I turn around to dance for two seconds and you disappear.”
Eddie watched, a little awed, as you stomped over to them. Without hesitation, a pink heeled foot kicked Steve’s leg. “Get up you moping loser, you promised me dancing,” you said.
“I’m sad,” Steve whined, moving to stand regardless. Even Eddie rolled his eyes at that one. He should’ve known – Harrington seemed super glued to your side this year. Where you went, he usually followed.
“Go be sad on the dance floor!” You urged, hopping in one place, the pink dress around you moving fluidly with you.
Eddie tried his best not to let his eyes settle onto your chest but, he was only a mere mortal, and the more you bounced – the more your assets bounced with you.
A third voice joined the fray and Eddie ducked. You glanced at him, as if surprised he was there, and blinked. “Don’t worry,” you whispered, “Natasha’s not a narc.”
“Damn right I’m not,” the girl dressed like a skeleton said. She wrapped Steve’s arm around her shoulders and winced at his breath. “Jesus Harrington, can’t you hold your liquor?”
“Can you get him something to drink?” You asked her, your face wrinkling in worry. “He needs to sober up a little before we go home.”
“At this rate, Amelia’s the only one who hasn’t touched the stuff,” Natasha snorted, dragging Steve out from under the bleachers.
You turned to him and squinted. Eddie grinned, excited to have your attention. With a flourish, he bowed. “Pleasure to see you tonight, if you’re looking for some weed – you’re in luck. I’ve got one left,” he said.
“What are you dressed as?” You asked, completely ignoring his question. Eddie quirked his brow and realized that your eyes were also a little glazed over.
“As a demon cult leader, what do you think? Did I do okay?” Eddie turned in a circle, putting on his show. He turned back to you, expecting you to look annoyed or put off – like everyone in the popular crowd did when faced with himself. Eddie felt his whole-body freeze when he caught your heated stare. You dragged your gaze up his body and Eddie swore he felt it like a physical touch.
Well, that was new.
“I’d say you look good, but you usually do,” you said, stepping towards him. Eddie, instinctively, took a step back. Scared and turned on were a very weird, although not unheard of, combination for him.
“Back at you princess,” he said, trying not to sound breathless. What the fuck?
At that, you quirked your head. “Princess?”
Eddie smirked, letting his obvious gaze trail down your body. You were clearly dressed as Princess Peach, your yellow wig pulled back into a messy ponytail, although…
“From my recollection, Princess Peach never wore a dress that short,” he said, eyeing your legs. He braced himself for a scathing reply but found you laughing instead. What the hell was it about this holiday that made people go insane?
“Princess Peach never had to attend a dance in an old smelly gym,” you said matter-of-factly. “Short as it is, it still feels like it’s a thousand degrees in here.”
“It’s the testosterone and steroids from the basketball team,” Eddie quipped, raising his brow. “No offense to your boyfriend.”
“Steve Harrington is not my boyfriend,” you said, laughing like that was the funniest joke you’d ever heard. “He’s literally crying over his break up.”
“Weirder things have happened,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I’m pretty sure-”
“So, this might be the tequila,” you interrupted him, loudly, “but I really want to kiss you.”
Eddie would’ve been less surprised if you’d taken out a baseball bat and smacked him with it.
“Uh, how much tequila?” Eddie asked.
You shrugged, stepping closer to him, “enough to make me feel good, not enough to not know what I’m doing.”
“You know,” he said, pensive, “that is really good enough for me.”
“Great!” You said, throwing yourself at him.
Eddie winced as your foot collided with his ankle but quickly forgot about the pain when your lips pressed against his. He dropped his hands to your waist, the rough fabric bunching around his grip.
You tasted like tequila, fruit punch, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. You were soft, so fucking soft, and pliant. Hands frantic, you fisted his collar as if assuring yourself he wasn’t going anywhere. Fucking zombies couldn’t pry him away with their cold dead hands.
Eddie felt you lean back for air, your eyes had a glint in them that he couldn’t describe and soon after, you’d pulled his head back by his hair. With his neck exposed, you latched on and Eddie desperately tried to remember that you’d both get in a lot of trouble if you were caught from the noises that were trying to claw out of him. Satisfied with the bruise you’d left, you beamed up at him and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile he shot you back.
“Didn’t take you for a biter,” he said, thumb coming to swipe across your lower lip.
“I’m not usually, you’re just enjoyable,” you said nonchalantly and unaffected, like you weren’t just shaking up his entire world. Unable to help himself, he nipped at the crook of your neck and was rewarded with the most delicious sounding moan. He wanted to carve that noise into his memory.
You immediately pushed him back, eyes hooded, and lips swollen. The red bite he’d placed on your neck felt like a neon sign and he couldn’t help but feel turned on by it. Holy shit, he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Then, with a quick motion, you dropped to the floor. Eddie jerked forward, worried you’d tripped or something when he realized you were kneeling. He straightened and shot you a confused look.
“Come on,” you urged, placing a warm hand on his calf.
Come on what? He thought, still wildly confused. He watched your lips part and you looked up at him through your lashes. Eddie shifted, his dick trying to get in on the action as well. He froze. No…you couldn’t… Eddie dropped his gaze to you and you shifted your weight onto your heels, hands reaching for his belt.
“Don’t you want me to?” You asked, smiling sweetly up at him. Holy fucking shit, Eddie thought. Maybe he was hallucinating? There’s no way you – you of all people – were on your knees during a Halloween dance, under the bleachers, with him, dressed like goddamn wet dream, and offering him a blow job. He nodded absently, still dazed and trying to process this moment, and you beamed.
Your impatient hands fumbled with his studded belt and Eddie reached out to help you. He stepped back, needing the space to unbuckle his pants, and watched as you fell forward.
“Shit, are you okay?” Eddie asked, looking for what you tripped over.
“I may be drunker than I realized,” you said, giggling. Eddie felt his blood freeze. Fuck. Slowly, he untangled your hands from his waistband and lowered himself to the floor next to you. “Why’d you stop?”
Eddie sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m pretty sure, given your squeaky-clean reputation, you’re not the type to lightly offer up what you just did,” he bumped your nose with his and felt his stupid, idiotic, heart flip at the sight of your wide smile. “Definitely not sober at least.”
“I’ve only had one boyfriend before,” you whispered, falling over onto your butt. You blinked, as if shocked, and brought your gaze back to him. “We did stuff, I’m not some stumbling virgin.”
“I’m sure you’re an absolute minx,” Eddie said, biting back laughter at your serious nod.
“He said I was good,” you frowned, looking pensive. “Although, he was also a virgin when we met so maybe I wasn’t?”
Nothing like tequila to bring around an existential crisis and brutal honesty. He was sure this wasn’t something you’d be telling him if you were sober. Still, Eddie couldn’t handle your sad little frown. He placed a hand on your bare knee, flinching at how hot your skin was. Although he was the one who’d touched you, it felt like you had branded him.
In fact, he was pretty sure he’d be unable to forget about this interaction for a while. Now that you’d caught his attention, you weren’t likely to go anywhere. “I’m pretty sure you rocked his world and have no doubt you could rock mine too. Especially considering that that’s how you kiss when you’re drunk. Not sure if I can handle a sober one.”
You grinned, lighting up the entirety of this dirty dark corner – even a little piece of him. Fuck, how had he never noticed how pretty you were? He thought back on all the times he’d seen you around the school.
“Come on, let’s get you back to your friends,” Eddie said, lifting you up. You laughed, your breath fanning over the darkening hickey on his neck.
He knew you floated from group to group, notorious for having friends in every clique, club, and class. Shit, even Billy Hargrove seemed to have an eye on you – not that you’d accepted any of his advances. Jeff had almost peed himself laughing when you’d kneed him in the balls for trying to cage you in by your locker before homeroom.
Anyone with eyes knew how hot you were, Gareth had even mentioned it a few times – especially in Physics, the only class you shared with them. You seemed to always have a sarcastic quip or friendly jab at the ready. Good grades, popular, sarcastic, and ready to throw a punch was exactly what he liked about you and exactly what put you so far out his league it was painful.
He emerged from the bleachers with a glance around the gym and tried to find your friends from earlier. One of your fingers trailed down his abdomen, your lips pressing an open mouthed kiss to his neck, and he groaned. Out of his league or not, you had been the one to come onto him. Because she’s drunk, Eddie’s stupidly moral mind reminded him. But what if she is interested? You obviously weren't wound as tight as Wheeler but was clearly not someone who offered without thought. Tequila did have a way of changing people though…
As he dropped you off next to a slumped Harrington, he caught the eye of the skeleton girl from earlier. She shot Eddie a thumbs up and started to make her way to the table.
“Hey,” he squatted down next to you.
“Hey handsome,” you said, giggling again.
Eddie really needed to get a fucking grip. He’d barely spared you much thought before tonight and in fifteen minutes you’d all but carved your name into his skin. What’s worse? He didn’t mind a bit. Shit, he really was a loser.
“I’m gonna go,” he said, “you gotta keep an eye on Harrington, okay? Your friend is on her way over to make sure you’re okay.”
“You don’t want to dance with me?” You asked, wide, beautiful eyes stabbing at his conscience.
“You’re a little too drunk for that right now, okay?” Eddie tugged a lock of your synthetic hair. “I’ll save you a dance at the next party.”
You nodded, trusting him entirely, and wobbled in your seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You squinted.
Eddie huffed a laugh. “Tomorrow is Saturday princess. I’ll see you Monday,” he added quickly when you frowned sadly.
“Don’t forget about me,” you stumbled, hand still clenched around his, “promise?”
“Sweetheart, I’m absolutely positive that this night is branded into my memory for life,” he said, standing and pressing a kiss to your temple. Last one.
“Bye cult leader,” you whispered, laughing at your own joke. Skeleton girl dropped into the seat between them and exhaled.
“Thanks Munson, I owe you one,” she said.
Eddie waved away her gratitude and took one last look at his Princess Peach.
“See ya,” he said, forcing himself to walk away. He’d barely made it to the doors when Jeff all but jumped him.
“Dude, what the hell were you doing with Henderson?” Jeff asked.
Henderson? Aw shit, that was Dustin’s older sister. Eddie groaned; he’d completely forgotten. In his defense, most of his blood was firmly south of the border.
Jeff blinked at him, waiting for an answer and Eddie…hesitated. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to keep tonight to himself. “Harrington was buying and Henderson followed. They’re drunk and I was just helping her back to her table.”
“Which is why you kissed her?”
“What?” Eddie froze.
Jeff eyed him. “I saw you; you kissed her forehead. I’m amazed she didn’t threaten to cut off your dick. Henderson’s cool but I wouldn’t fuck with her.”
Eddie exhaled, relieved. “Right. Uh, I don’t know. You know me man, I’m crazy.”
“Shit, I didn’t think you were that crazy,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “Respect man.”
“I’ll see you Monday,” Eddie said, “I’m out of here.”
“Later dude!”
Eddie took one last look at your table, where you were being force fed some food before disappearing out the doors. He brought his fingers up to his neck like he could still feel the ghost of your lips as you nipped him. Eddie hopped into his car and finally relaxed into his seat.
What a fucking night.