[The lull of sleep takes him fairly fast. Billy doesn't dream much, anymore. At least he hadn't in the Upside Down. His mind wanders vaguely through memories: flashes of nightmares, of things that his body has done in the absence of himself. There's always blood. A drip, a smell. It keeps him hungry, keeps him sharp.
He wakes in periods: forty minutes, then an hour. He wakes easy, finds himself wrapped around Eddie Munson, naked and cold. This is isn't even the strangest thing he's woken up to, but it is the nicest. It is the most comforting. He likes the way Eddie smells: faintly of weed, and sweat and blood. He likes the way Eddie looks when he sleeps, likes the way his hair fans out and tangles, how his chest rises and falls with the effort of breathing. Maybe it is the trauma bonding, and maybe it's the intimacy of knowing what Eddie Munson's last human breath felt like. Billy falls a little in love too, so damn fast that it's terrifying.
He can be scared of that and work, though. Reminds himself of the plan: that he needs Jason's blood fast, needs to get enough evidence to make this shit work. He's probably going to have to rough Eddie up a bit, he realises. Knows he's going to have to provoke Neil into roughing him up.
He's all nerves and agitation. All hesitance and insecurity. He hates his father, yeah, and he's superhuman now, sure, but - he's still Billy. He's still terrified of disobedience, no matter how much he just wants to live.
Carefully, he detaches himself from Eddie. Rummages for something vaguely tupperware looking - something with a lid. Finds an old pot and it's iron top, figures that'll do. He doesn't need a knife, though. Quietly he crouches down, murmurs softly: ] This is gonna sting a little, but you can stay sleeping - [ while he takes an arm and kisses the inside of Eddie's wrist. Then he bites, deep and hard, and carefully holds Eddie's arm over the pot, licking his lips. ]
no subject
He wakes in periods: forty minutes, then an hour. He wakes easy, finds himself wrapped around Eddie Munson, naked and cold. This is isn't even the strangest thing he's woken up to, but it is the nicest. It is the most comforting. He likes the way Eddie smells: faintly of weed, and sweat and blood. He likes the way Eddie looks when he sleeps, likes the way his hair fans out and tangles, how his chest rises and falls with the effort of breathing. Maybe it is the trauma bonding, and maybe it's the intimacy of knowing what Eddie Munson's last human breath felt like. Billy falls a little in love too, so damn fast that it's terrifying.
He can be scared of that and work, though. Reminds himself of the plan: that he needs Jason's blood fast, needs to get enough evidence to make this shit work. He's probably going to have to rough Eddie up a bit, he realises. Knows he's going to have to provoke Neil into roughing him up.
He's all nerves and agitation. All hesitance and insecurity. He hates his father, yeah, and he's superhuman now, sure, but - he's still Billy. He's still terrified of disobedience, no matter how much he just wants to live.
Carefully, he detaches himself from Eddie. Rummages for something vaguely tupperware looking - something with a lid. Finds an old pot and it's iron top, figures that'll do. He doesn't need a knife, though. Quietly he crouches down, murmurs softly: ] This is gonna sting a little, but you can stay sleeping - [ while he takes an arm and kisses the inside of Eddie's wrist. Then he bites, deep and hard, and carefully holds Eddie's arm over the pot, licking his lips. ]