No offence, but you did look like you needed the sleep.
[Like he can talk, really.
The blood starts to clot, and with a soft sorry, Billy digs a claw into the wound - forces a few more minutes of it gushing until the pot has at least enough to cause a real scene. Then he press his mouth against it, licks over it until it stops. It's always kind of messy, is this thing. A little gross, maybe too intimate.
The pot he puts in the fridge, tries not to think about how stupid they're going to look sneaking into Neil's basement with a goddamn soup pot full of blood. Less stupid, probably, than how they look with the hats. But, speaking of: he also should get dressed. ]
- You might start going into a real bad mood. With the blood loss. You can bite, but if you start sulking I'm putting you in the car trunk.
We're gonna need a little Vamp 101 class pretty soon.
[ But maybe after he gets done admiring Billy's ass as he walks away, thinking about that mouth on his arm and how heavenly it felt around him. He feels lightheaded and...
You ever been real horny and hungry at the same time it makes you snap at everyone? Kind of like that. Except, you know, [he's glancing over his shoulder as he slips his boxers on. ] You might actually kill somebody.
[Billy has killed at least twenty Demo-things. The blood is real bad. ] This sunny disposition is all you, baby.
[He's quiet. He doesn't really have an answer, is the thing. Monster blood isn't the same, and if he's honest, it's probably fucked him up real good. He's always kind of hungry, and he's not sure if that will pass with access to the blood his body needs, or if it'll just be him balancing precariously between sane hungry, and ravenous hungry.
He rubs a knuckle over an eye, sighs. ] I ate whatever I could, when I could. It's not really a reliable way to tell.
[He's looking away. ] I could have ate you whole when I found you. Probably wanted to. I felt that way when I saw Jason - felt it more when I could smell all those fucking people. I don't know, man. Maybe it's all self control. Maybe it's a breakfast, lunch, dinner kind of deal.
[ maybe it's good that he's a leg down, then. that all the frustration and anger that sometimes bubbles and bubbles within him never -- pops.
Eddie knows what kind of man his father could be when the world got too much. And he's already done so much to follow in his footsteps - he never wants to fully walk that path. ]
Then we're gonna need to find some donors so we aren't clearing my name and giving you a new shot at life for nothing.
[He doesn't say that it feels good to give into the bloodlust. Doesn't say that there's a kind of euphoria in not caring: in being cruel. He doesn't say any of that, because when he's good - when he's sane, there's a guilt. He thinks he probably turn it off, if he wanted. If he really, really wanted.
He nods, still looking away. ] Then we should tell someone. [He means Eddie, because - because who does Billy have, really? ]
Temporary. At the hospital it'll be easier to get blood. [He wants to give up his dad like a sacrificial lamb, but he knows if he's bled out they'll ask questions. ] It's that or I hunt, Eddie. There's a whole bunch of basketball players left. A whole team.
[ There's a half-hearted effort to get up and go to him, but the bloodloss keeps him where he is. ]
But if you start killing basketball players, they're going to pin it on me. If the killings continue after your old man takes the fall then...
[ there's no saving him. ]
Don't... Don't get me wrong here, B. I feel it. Right now. How much I wanna just... [ he clenches a fist, holds it up - it shakes ] give this town a taste of all the shit they gave me over the years. Just a fraction of the Munson experience. Might as well be everything they say I am, right?
But fuck, I have bigger dreams than a prison cell.
[He's pulling his jeans back on, nodding, and nodding, and he gets it. Doesn't at the same time because they're not - they're human. Would a prison even hold them? Would they even make it to one?
He does up the zip as he walks over, bends for Eddie's shirt and sits next to him with it in his hands. ] I know. I know.
[He wants to live so fucking bad. ] We'll figure it out. Shit, animals if we have to.
[ Billy getting dressed slowly spurs him to trying to get himself in order. pulling his pants up and... leaning bodily into billy, resting his head against his shoulder. ]
[ he shuts those big brown eyes, inhaling deeply. ]
So... you survived the fire. [ he gestures lightly to the scars. ] You're gonna need to fill in the details between how things went down between you and your dad. But the important bits are: he kept you out of the house until he threw Max and her mom out, and then he moved you into the basement. Was planning on splitting and taking you with him, clean start.
[ his hands seeks Billy's, threading together. squeezing tight. ]
Maybe you let it slip I was selling you drugs. Or... hears a rumor we were friendly around town, and he flips the fuck out. [ he shrugs. ] Either way, the night... the night Chrissy dies, your old man comes to my house to punish the town queer for getting friendly with his son. He goes after Chrissy because he thinks she's... [ he presses his lips together ] that she's here to slum it, too, and blacks out. Next thing he knows she's dead, I'm not. Hauls me off through the woods so nobody sees, and then eventually brings me back to the car.
[ his thumb rubs along the side of billy's hand, smoothing calming circles. ]
He finds Fred walking through the woods following the same path. Bumps him off too. Real malicious. Fred's... [ he licks his lips ] Fred's got the same shitty rumors flying around. So Jason -- Jason's out of his mind with grief, convinced I'm some kind of Satanic overlord. He's seeing things. When Patrick gets taken out that night, he just blacks out and convinces himself he's seeing some shit. Tells the town that, but then he starts... doubting it. Remembers he saw your dad right before things got messed up.
The whole time, me and you are in the basement. Your dad's... torturing me. Drawing it out, 'cause this is personal. And sickos get like that.
So when Jason goes around to the house to ask some questions. Hears us in the basement. Heads down - and your dad kills him right in front of us. Your dad goes to dump the body - we don't know where, it's never gonna be found - and when he comes back, you've had enough. He didn't tie you up well enough after he left to deal with Jason, so you're loose by the time he gets out. Worried I'm gonna die unless you do something, or just pissed, so you fight back.
Self-defense. You call 911. They're gonna find us in the basement. I'm gonna be tied up - gonna need to be pretty mauled - and there are gonna need to be some restraints.
[It’s real methodical. Smart. He squeezes Eddie’s hand, visualises the events as best he can, working through the details as he goes.
He exhales, feels tightly wound again.] Maybe we keep you hungry. Keep you from healing up too fast. [There’s a nose against Eddie’s hair; a kiss that follows.] I’m gonna need you to - to let him fuck me up a little.
[It stings a little, to say this. ] Enough that they’ll believe it.
[ he shrugs. maybe a little tense. people know better than to fuck with eddie - part of that is just the reputation he's built for himself. chains and leather and a devil may care attitude.
part of it is earned. it will mean something if he's mangled up and broken, and - with his leg already how it is - it'll be proof he wasn't in any shape to hurt anybody.
he refuses to feel guilt for jason fucking carver. ]
If we wait any longer, from how the kids make it sound, someone's gonna swoop in and make the story for us.
[Neil’s gonna be working, he knows. He might hit a liquor store on his way home. It gives them time to stage the basement. Gives him time to peel Eddie apart.
The resolve as strong as it’s gonna get, really. ]
Take your time, I’m gonna put you in the backseat. [More room to sprawl and snap if he gets agitated. For now he hands over the shirt, pauses for a beat and - fuck. ] Hey, [and it’s so soft, so unlike him. ] After all this - I’m. You’ll still have me. Right?
[ He tugs it on over his head, giving sore limbs a stretch. ]
Hey.
[ his hand goes back to billy's. giving another solid squeeze. ]
I know you're not about to wreck my pretty face because you want to, alright? You're my literal partner in crime. If you want to ditch me after you get your life back, power to you. But I'm not budging. Got it?
No. It’s just - fuck. It’s a small town, Eddie.
[People talk. People judge, and Billy’s terrified of that, sure. He’s more scared of being alone, though. More scared of being left to his own devices. ]
I don’t know. I think I’m too fucking tired to hide two parts of myself, and I’m - I’m shit scared of fucking it up.
that is a valid point. one that gives eddie a moment to think. because what he is has always been... known. an open secret. but one that he purposefully doesn't disclose. ]
My uncle doesn't give a fuck. [ is what he settles on, finally. billy has a place to stay with them. wayne will welcome him with open arms with this cover story, even if... even if lying twists his guts a bit. ] And his opinion is the only one that matters to me. I don't give a fuck what this town thinks of me.
Don't be a dickhead to my friends, or the kids, and we're golden, pretty boy.
Okay. [okay. The house is Susan’s. It’s Max’s. They can sell it. Keep it. Fuck, Billy doesn’t care. Whether he’s there with them is a different story.
Whether he and Eddie work outside of this is also frighteningly uncertain. Still, still - hasn’t he been through enough? Doesn’t he deserve this?
He reaches for Eddie’s cheek.] I’m gonna be a dickhead, [he says, leaning in.] But I’ll be good.
[He wants to say it’s fine. Except, yeah. Eddie’s going to feel real snappy soon, and if he does bite, Billy’s going go get real horny about it.
He lets Eddie use him to shift round, then it’s a flurry of motion. Shirt, jacket - getting Eddie into the backseat, getting the blood as far out of reach as possible.
He throws Eddie’s hat into the backseat: keeps his on, pulled down low and drives just above the limit. Not his usual, just enough to make sure they’re back in the suburbs before it hits 5pm.
Neil’s changed the locks. This is fine - the backdoor isn’t locked. Never is. Still, Billy is cautious when they pull up. Watches each neighbouring window for signs of life. Finds himself twitchy even when he finds most of them empty. Getting Eddie in is the real struggle: it doesn’t matter how quiet it is, Billy moves him inside fast and the blood faster.
The house is mostly the same. Beer bottles in the kitchen - dishes in the sink. Easing Eddie in, towards the basement door, it’s easy to see that Neil is barely hanging on. It’s barely satisfying. He wants to see his room - wants to see what he’s done to it. To him.
Eddie first, though.
The basement is all cobwebs. Billy’s old board stands in a corner, dust covered. Old pieces of California, some old dining chairs that his mom had picked out. He ties Eddie to one with some old fishing nets. Finds some old work cloths to gag him, and old tools to - well.
He doesn’t gag him right away. Presses a kiss to his forehead, murmurs a I’ll make it up to you before he gets to work. He knows how his dad does things: a slap hard enough to bruise. A hand around the throat, punches to the gut. Half way through he has to stop - puts his head on Eddie’s lap like he he might throw up. ]
[ It hurts. Eddie takes each hit as best he can, making as little noise as possible. Those enormous brown eyes full with tears after the hit to his gut reopens the healing bite wounds, his jaw chattering. They're not finished - he's bruised and bloody and hurting in a way he never really has before, wanting to hurt back, but...
But Billy's distress is genuine. Eddie lets out a ragged gasp, and spits blood, reaching to stroke those golden curls, murmuring words of praise like this isn't opening old wounds of his own. memories of being small and helpless against a man he trusts when there's not something coursing through his veins.
If Billy ever hit him outside the bedroom, outside his consent, this would be a different story. its just the shit hand they've been dealt. ]
We'll use safe words next time, sunshine. I promise.
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[ He sighs, letting go to scrub at his eyes with the hand not currently donating to their escape plan. ]
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[Like he can talk, really.
The blood starts to clot, and with a soft sorry, Billy digs a claw into the wound - forces a few more minutes of it gushing until the pot has at least enough to cause a real scene. Then he press his mouth against it, licks over it until it stops. It's always kind of messy, is this thing. A little gross, maybe too intimate.
The pot he puts in the fridge, tries not to think about how stupid they're going to look sneaking into Neil's basement with a goddamn soup pot full of blood. Less stupid, probably, than how they look with the hats. But, speaking of: he also should get dressed. ]
- You might start going into a real bad mood. With the blood loss. You can bite, but if you start sulking I'm putting you in the car trunk.
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[ But maybe after he gets done admiring Billy's ass as he walks away, thinking about that mouth on his arm and how heavenly it felt around him. He feels lightheaded and...
hungry.
Painfully hungry. ]
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[Billy has killed at least twenty Demo-things. The blood is real bad. ] This sunny disposition is all you, baby.
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and never let them know what it takes to do that. ]
How often do we need to... eat?
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He rubs a knuckle over an eye, sighs. ] I ate whatever I could, when I could. It's not really a reliable way to tell.
[He's looking away. ] I could have ate you whole when I found you. Probably wanted to. I felt that way when I saw Jason - felt it more when I could smell all those fucking people. I don't know, man. Maybe it's all self control. Maybe it's a breakfast, lunch, dinner kind of deal.
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Eddie knows what kind of man his father could be when the world got too much. And he's already done so much to follow in his footsteps - he never wants to fully walk that path. ]
Then we're gonna need to find some donors so we aren't clearing my name and giving you a new shot at life for nothing.
[ he licks his lips. tries to think. ]
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He nods, still looking away. ] Then we should tell someone. [He means Eddie, because - because who does Billy have, really? ]
Temporary. At the hospital it'll be easier to get blood. [He wants to give up his dad like a sacrificial lamb, but he knows if he's bled out they'll ask questions. ] It's that or I hunt, Eddie. There's a whole bunch of basketball players left. A whole team.
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We will, okay?
[ There's a half-hearted effort to get up and go to him, but the bloodloss keeps him where he is. ]
But if you start killing basketball players, they're going to pin it on me. If the killings continue after your old man takes the fall then...
[ there's no saving him. ]
Don't... Don't get me wrong here, B. I feel it. Right now. How much I wanna just... [ he clenches a fist, holds it up - it shakes ] give this town a taste of all the shit they gave me over the years. Just a fraction of the Munson experience. Might as well be everything they say I am, right?
But fuck, I have bigger dreams than a prison cell.
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He does up the zip as he walks over, bends for Eddie's shirt and sits next to him with it in his hands. ] I know. I know.
[He wants to live so fucking bad. ] We'll figure it out. Shit, animals if we have to.
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Always did like raw steak.
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[It's fine. They'll be fine. ] Talk me through our time frame. It should keep your mind off it for the next twenty minutes.
[He's reaching across himself, knuckle stroking against his cheek. ]
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So... you survived the fire. [ he gestures lightly to the scars. ] You're gonna need to fill in the details between how things went down between you and your dad. But the important bits are: he kept you out of the house until he threw Max and her mom out, and then he moved you into the basement. Was planning on splitting and taking you with him, clean start.
[ his hands seeks Billy's, threading together. squeezing tight. ]
Maybe you let it slip I was selling you drugs. Or... hears a rumor we were friendly around town, and he flips the fuck out. [ he shrugs. ] Either way, the night... the night Chrissy dies, your old man comes to my house to punish the town queer for getting friendly with his son. He goes after Chrissy because he thinks she's... [ he presses his lips together ] that she's here to slum it, too, and blacks out. Next thing he knows she's dead, I'm not. Hauls me off through the woods so nobody sees, and then eventually brings me back to the car.
[ his thumb rubs along the side of billy's hand, smoothing calming circles. ]
He finds Fred walking through the woods following the same path. Bumps him off too. Real malicious. Fred's... [ he licks his lips ] Fred's got the same shitty rumors flying around. So Jason -- Jason's out of his mind with grief, convinced I'm some kind of Satanic overlord. He's seeing things. When Patrick gets taken out that night, he just blacks out and convinces himself he's seeing some shit. Tells the town that, but then he starts... doubting it. Remembers he saw your dad right before things got messed up.
The whole time, me and you are in the basement. Your dad's... torturing me. Drawing it out, 'cause this is personal. And sickos get like that.
So when Jason goes around to the house to ask some questions. Hears us in the basement. Heads down - and your dad kills him right in front of us. Your dad goes to dump the body - we don't know where, it's never gonna be found - and when he comes back, you've had enough. He didn't tie you up well enough after he left to deal with Jason, so you're loose by the time he gets out. Worried I'm gonna die unless you do something, or just pissed, so you fight back.
Self-defense. You call 911. They're gonna find us in the basement. I'm gonna be tied up - gonna need to be pretty mauled - and there are gonna need to be some restraints.
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He exhales, feels tightly wound again.] Maybe we keep you hungry. Keep you from healing up too fast. [There’s a nose against Eddie’s hair; a kiss that follows.] I’m gonna need you to - to let him fuck me up a little.
[It stings a little, to say this. ] Enough that they’ll believe it.
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[ but this tender side of billy is welcome too. he exhales slow. ]
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You can fuck me up any time. But this - [another squeeze,] It’s not gonna be pretty.
[hmmm. ] Tonight? Or -
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[ he shrugs. maybe a little tense. people know better than to fuck with eddie - part of that is just the reputation he's built for himself. chains and leather and a devil may care attitude.
part of it is earned. it will mean something if he's mangled up and broken, and - with his leg already how it is - it'll be proof he wasn't in any shape to hurt anybody.
he refuses to feel guilt for jason fucking carver. ]
If we wait any longer, from how the kids make it sound, someone's gonna swoop in and make the story for us.
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[Neil’s gonna be working, he knows. He might hit a liquor store on his way home. It gives them time to stage the basement. Gives him time to peel Eddie apart.
The resolve as strong as it’s gonna get, really. ]
Take your time, I’m gonna put you in the backseat. [More room to sprawl and snap if he gets agitated. For now he hands over the shirt, pauses for a beat and - fuck. ] Hey, [and it’s so soft, so unlike him. ] After all this - I’m. You’ll still have me. Right?
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Hey.
[ his hand goes back to billy's. giving another solid squeeze. ]
I know you're not about to wreck my pretty face because you want to, alright? You're my literal partner in crime. If you want to ditch me after you get your life back, power to you. But I'm not budging. Got it?
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[People talk. People judge, and Billy’s terrified of that, sure. He’s more scared of being alone, though. More scared of being left to his own devices. ]
I don’t know. I think I’m too fucking tired to hide two parts of myself, and I’m - I’m shit scared of fucking it up.
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that is a valid point. one that gives eddie a moment to think. because what he is has always been... known. an open secret. but one that he purposefully doesn't disclose. ]
My uncle doesn't give a fuck. [ is what he settles on, finally. billy has a place to stay with them. wayne will welcome him with open arms with this cover story, even if... even if lying twists his guts a bit. ] And his opinion is the only one that matters to me. I don't give a fuck what this town thinks of me.
Don't be a dickhead to my friends, or the kids, and we're golden, pretty boy.
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Whether he and Eddie work outside of this is also frighteningly uncertain. Still, still - hasn’t he been through enough? Doesn’t he deserve this?
He reaches for Eddie’s cheek.] I’m gonna be a dickhead, [he says, leaning in.] But I’ll be good.
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Yeah, you will. I'll make sure of it.
[ he leans in for a kiss - pulls back when the compulsion to bite reels up. ]
... We'd better get going before my mood tanks.
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[He wants to say it’s fine. Except, yeah. Eddie’s going to feel real snappy soon, and if he does bite, Billy’s going go get real horny about it.
He lets Eddie use him to shift round, then it’s a flurry of motion. Shirt, jacket - getting Eddie into the backseat, getting the blood as far out of reach as possible.
He throws Eddie’s hat into the backseat: keeps his on, pulled down low and drives just above the limit. Not his usual, just enough to make sure they’re back in the suburbs before it hits 5pm.
Neil’s changed the locks. This is fine - the backdoor isn’t locked. Never is. Still, Billy is cautious when they pull up. Watches each neighbouring window for signs of life. Finds himself twitchy even when he finds most of them empty. Getting Eddie in is the real struggle: it doesn’t matter how quiet it is, Billy moves him inside fast and the blood faster.
The house is mostly the same. Beer bottles in the kitchen - dishes in the sink. Easing Eddie in, towards the basement door, it’s easy to see that Neil is barely hanging on. It’s barely satisfying. He wants to see his room - wants to see what he’s done to it. To him.
Eddie first, though.
The basement is all cobwebs. Billy’s old board stands in a corner, dust covered. Old pieces of California, some old dining chairs that his mom had picked out. He ties Eddie to one with some old fishing nets. Finds some old work cloths to gag him, and old tools to - well.
He doesn’t gag him right away. Presses a kiss to his forehead, murmurs a I’ll make it up to you before he gets to work. He knows how his dad does things: a slap hard enough to bruise. A hand around the throat, punches to the gut. Half way through he has to stop - puts his head on Eddie’s lap like he he might throw up. ]
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But Billy's distress is genuine. Eddie lets out a ragged gasp, and spits blood, reaching to stroke those golden curls, murmuring words of praise like this isn't opening old wounds of his own. memories of being small and helpless against a man he trusts when there's not something coursing through his veins.
If Billy ever hit him outside the bedroom, outside his consent, this would be a different story. its just the shit hand they've been dealt. ]
We'll use safe words next time, sunshine. I promise.
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