Chrissy's first kiss happened when she was twelve years old, with Steve Harrington, at a middle school basketball season closer party.

She wasn't alone in this. Most girls in her grade had their first kiss with Steve Harrington. He was a common crush for the girls in middle school, a dreamboat fourteen-year-old, due to his fantastic hair and the fact that he was one of the few middle school boys that was actually nice to the girls. And he enjoyed flirting with the girls, to the point that an extra long session of "spin the bottle" meant that a lot of girls ended up having their first kiss with Steve, who was known to cheat at the game.

She remembered being disappointed at the kiss. Not that it was a bad kiss by any means, but she had expected fireworks and stars. She felt that Audrey Hepburn and Disney had lied to her.

When she started dating Jason, she became resigned to the fact that "firework kisses" were the things of legends. She enjoyed kissing Jason, when he wasn't being handsy, and had accepted that this was what kissing was, just a sweet interaction of skin.

When she kissed Eddie Munson, her resignation flew out the window.

This was what a kiss was supposed to be. She cradled his face, reveling in the sweet noise he made against her mouth. He was surprisingly gentle—she didn't know why, but she hadn't expected tenderness from him. She settled herself on his lap and a thrill shot through her body when he placed his hands on her back, steadying her.

The kiss had been as innocent as her middle school kiss with Steve Harrington so many years ago. She broke from him gently to gauge his expression and when she saw his eyes remained open, heavy-lidded and passionate, she returned to his lips again.

This time she ran her tongue against his bottom lip, requesting entry. He opened for her easily, groaning as he did so, and she explored him more fully. He matched her movements beat for beat, never pushing, letting her take the lead. He tasted like cigarettes and chocolate, two forbidden things her mother would never allow her to have. Electricity coursed through her body and she shivered when his hands fisted into her shirt—his shirt, actually.

She sucked on his lower lip and his hands wandered down to her ass, cupping her gently. She squeaked into his mouth and he removed his hands immediately and breaking from the kiss.

"You sure…" He licked his lips and she hazily stared at him. "You sure you want to do this?"

Chrissy nodded.

"We can stop anytime you want. I won't be mad or anything."

"I want—I want this," She confessed. "I've been thinking about this for so long."

His eyes widened. "You have?"

She blushed. "Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since…since you swallowed my gum in Brauer's class."

A wicked smile spread over his face. "Dirty girl."

She pretended to huff at that but secretly reveled in it. Something about the words, the way they should have offended her when they actually thrilled her—what was wrong with her?

Nothing was wrong with her. Eddie's eyes feasted over her and she shifted in his lap, adjusting herself more comfortably. He grunted a little at the movement and she kissed him again, wanting to memorize his taste.

The kiss became more desperate. His tongue licked the roof of her mouth and she nipped his lower lip, loving the sound of his growls at the feel of her teeth. He paused for just a moment and shoved his jacket off, tossing it aside. Her hands immediately went to his shoulders, tracing the shape of his forearms. He was leaner than Jason, but there was muscle there, finely corded and tight. Her kisses explored the side of his neck, tasting his stubble. She paused a moment to inspect a tattoo that peeked over the collar of his T-shirt. He watched her inspect the black widow spider and swore violently when she gently pressed a kiss to it. Kissing spiders and taking her clothes off in Eddie Munson's van…she felt blissfully outside of herself.

Eddie hesitated a moment and his hands went to her hips, to the lining of her panties. His fingers slipped underneath and her breath caught for a moment. She went still—Jason had done this before and it was never comfortable…but Eddie had said he hadn't been doing it right…

"Do you want me to stop?" Eddie asked softly.

She bit her lip. Slowly, she shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded fiercely.

"You can take it back anytime you want." His fingers glided over her damp slit. "Jesus fucking Christ, you are so wet…"

Chrissy couldn't deny that Jason had never gotten her this wet before. That must make a difference. What's more, Eddie was not jamming his fingers painfully inside her like Jason did. He was almost massaging her, not even moving penetrating her folds, just lazily making circles and figure eights.

"How does that feel?" He whispered in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"It feels…" She swallowed. "Different."

"Different good?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to keep going?"

His brown eyes had almost gone black. She slowly nodded. He leaned towards her for a kiss and she met his lips again gratefully. What was it about him that tasted so familiar, so much like home? As he kissed her, he slowly slipped a finger between her folds.

She gasped at the sensation. It didn't hurt—Eddie kept up with his massaging movements, fingers gliding against her inner walls. It almost felt like a tickle, but better.

Chrissy felt her hips contract, meeting his fingers. She blushed at the involuntary reaction and he kissed the corner of her mouth.

"You're doing good," He breathed against her. "So good, sweetheart. Do what feels good."

He added another finger and she was surprised to find that she loved the sensation of his rings inside her. The coolness of the metal mixed with the heat of his fingers was intoxicating. She couldn't help but moan at this. Heat filled her cheeks at the involuntary noise.

"Good girl," Eddie told her and she glowed at the praise. "I wanna hear you."

"It's—embarrassing," She whispered.

"It's gorgeous," He told her, his fingers curled inside of her and she gasped. "I love hearing you. I love knowing I'm making you feel good."

Her hands cradled around his cheeks. She had never experienced someone so intent on her pleasure, on her experience. She felt herself moving against his fingers, almost bouncing , letting the selfish pleasure curl inside her stomach.

"That's my girl," Eddie's hot mouth tasted her throat. "That's my good girl. God, you are so tight."

His thumb circled somewhere and Chrissy cried out. White hot pleasure shot through her like the same lightning bolts that carved the sky outside. No one could hear them over the thundering rain. And his fingers were playing her, like a guitar, his fingers thrumming up inside her, but his thumb rubbing that place, that sweet sensitive nub she'd never dared to touch herself. She suddenly screamed, her back arching, pleasure coursing throughout her entire body. She felt like a firework, like an exploding star, and she let go of everything, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

Chrissy collapsed against him, boneless. She twitched against him as the pace of his fingers grew slower, determined to draw out every last moment of pleasure. She sighed against his chest and felt him kiss her forehead.

"You okay?" His voice sounded a little hoarse. She nodded blearily and lifted her head up to look at him.

"That was—um—"

"What it's supposed to feel like," His voice cracked a bit and she noticed a large bulge in his jeans. He had spent so much time giving to her, letting her be selfish…she wondered what to do.

Eddie noticed her looking. "Uh, don't worry about that. Take care of it later."

She bit her lip. "Shouldn't I—"

"Nope," He shook his head vigorously and kissed the tip of her nose. "This was about you. Understand?"

His eyes were so warm, like hot chocolate on a wintery day. She gazed at him for a long moment until they both jumped—basketball practice was over, and the team came swarming out the gym doors.

"Shit," Eddie muttered and Chrissy ducked low. After all that had happened, they'd forgotten they were in the school parking log. The storm had dissipated as well, sunshine breaking through the clouds as the laughing boys made their way to their cars. If Jason found her like this, in Eddie Munson's van, wearing nothing but a his band's T-shirt…

Eddie clambered to the driver's seat and started the ignition. He hit the gas, swerving around several basketball players, who bellowed in rage. Chrissy kept low as she possibly could, not daring to peek out the window.

When they were far enough away from the school, she scooted up to the passenger side, exhaling in relief. He glanced at her for a moment and they both suddenly burst out laughing.

"I guess I should take you home," He murmured and she nodded in reluctant agreement.

They drove in awkward silence for a long moment. Chrissy felt her cheer uniform—it was mostly dry, so she slipped it on under the Corroded Coffin shirt and stuffed the top into her backpack.

"Eddie," She started nervously.

He gave her a quick look. "I won't tell anyone."

"That's not what I was…" She took a deep breath. "Could I—could I see you again?"

His face broke out into a warm smile that made her glow. "Yeah. You want to…come over to my place next Friday?"

Next Friday. She would be cheering that day for the tournament finals. But afterwards…she usually went to the squad's slumber party or spent the night with Jocelyn…

"After the game?" She hugged her knees to her chest.

"Yup," He confirmed and then shook himself. "Oh, you mean the basketball game. Yeah, should be done by then. I can pick you up after."

They were nearing her house. Chrissy calculated—her mom might still be at church league, but Froggy was definitely still at home, and it was up in the air whether he'd rat on her or not.

"Can you stop here?" She requested. "My dad's still at home, but I don't want my little brother to see."

"You have a little brother?"

"Froggy." She smiled at Eddie's expression. "His name's Freddy, but I've always called him Froggy because he looked like a little frog when he was born."

"Are you guys close?" Eddie asked curiously.

She raised and lowered one shoulder. It was too difficult to describe the dynamics of her relationship with Froggy—how sometimes he'd save part of his pizza for her on Family Pizza Night when he noticed Chrissy only ate the salad her mother ordered for her. Or how he'd hide in her room during their mother's violent rages. Or how they were the first to turn on each other, to blame each other for breaking their mother's sewing machine or not doing the dishes, because it was better one of them get hit than themselves. Chrissy had no idea if Froggy would keep Eddie a secret or use it as ammunition for the next time he got in trouble and she wasn't willing to find out.

"All right, next week then," He cocked his head. "Uh…is it weird if I gave you a kiss good night?"

She blushed prettily. He had just made her feel like a supernova had erupted in her body with his fingers and now he was asking if he could kiss her good night. She had felt lust for him sure, but this sudden affection towards him…that was new.

Chrissy unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned up towards him. He kissed her sweetly, as though they'd just gotten back from the movies, instead of him fingering her in his van. She let the kiss linger and gathered up her things, exiting the van. She waved goodbye, noticing her legs were a little wobbly.

Her mother was not home. She didn't see Froggy either as she tramped upstairs and quickly changed out of the Corroded Coffin shirt. She put on a light pink sweatsuit and hid the shirt under her pillow. She gazed at her wrinkled cheerleading suit critically. She needed to get it washed and dried before her mother came home…maybe she could wait over the weekend, when her mom was out grocery shopping.

She glanced at the crumpled paper sack Eddie had given her. He'd told her not to have sex until she'd been a week on the pill…she would be meeting up with him next week…

Her bedroom door slammed open and Froggy burst inside.

"God!" Chrissy exhaled. "You scared me. What do you want?"

Her ten-year-old brother looked her up and down suspiciously. People said they looked alike, with bright blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair, but it looked almost angelic on Froggy. He could get away with murder if he wanted.

"I was at Derek Norwine's house playing kickball," He told her and Chrissy's stomach sank. Derek Norwine lived a block or so away—almost exactly where Eddie had dropped Chrissy off.

"So?" She said, stalling for time.

"That wasn't Jason's car," Froggy began to pace. "Who gave you a ride home?"

"Just a friend," Chrissy said evasively.

"A friend," Froggy repeated. "A friend you didn't want Mom to see."

Chrissy crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Mom doesn't like any of my friends."

There was a beat. "That's true," Froggy said slowly.

"Can you go, please?" Chrissy requested. "I got caught in the rain coming home. I need to take a shower."

Froggy slowly backed out of her room, still giving her a suspicious onceover. Chrissy sucked in her breath and closed the door behind him. She went to her contraband and considered wear to hide it. Finally, she decided on an old children's illustrated Bible that still decorated her bookshelf. She hardly ever used it, but it had pockets on the front flaps, useful for hiding the slim plastic containers.

Work done, she flopped onto her bed with a sign. She let her fingers reach under her pillow for the band shirt, squeezing its softness, remembering Eddie's hands. She heard Froggy turn on the television in the living room.

She needed to be careful.