eddie psl post.

[heatmetal]

boop boop banoop

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[retromix]

[ Bites. Right. More? Open ones? Aren't they healing? He nods to Eddie, questions we can't answer reminds him that for now at least they all have to act like there's nothing else weird going on. His gaze slides over to Billy, still getting used to seeing him up and about. Alive. Less than gunning for a fight. ]

The girls are coming up this afternoon but I wanted to see Eddie without them.

[ His guilt over Eddie's death has Steve wide-eyed at his bedside as he draws near, lips a thin line of a grimace. ]

I told you not to be a hero.

[heatmetal]

[ ah... he gives billy's wrist a little squeeze. ]

We got joint custody of Henderson.

[ is the best way he can explain when prying ears could be about. ]

I know... [ but he can't explain antmore. Not yet. He just nods to the blonde. ] Billy saved me. In there. Got us out. I'm a shit hero, he's the real deal like you are.

[camarod]

[He's retreating a little, watches Steve intently, like he's sizing up a threat. Like he's not sure Steve is real, too. He smells real; smells like flushing blood and cologne and anxiety, relief. Billy swallows. ]

Saved's a strong word. [He glances at Eddie, expression carefully neutral. ]

[retromix]

Uh huh.

[ Dustin's account of Eddie dying in his arms is difficult to discount but, yeah. Later. For now Steve looks doubtful but holds his tongue. ]

I'm glad you both got back okay.

[ That's with a significant look at Hargrove too, since Max is so happy to have him back. He lays a hand lightly on Eddie's shoulder, frown vanishing with a smile. ]

Do you need anything? Do not say a six-pack.

[heatmetal]

[ who let Steve Harrington small so good? Eddie wants to cry. ]

Dunno, man... I'm pretty parched.

[camarod]

[Billy’s laugh is abrupt; shocked out of him so fast he leans forward and sort of chokes. He shoots a look at Eddie that says stop it. .]

He’s high on morphine. Ignore him.

[retromix]

[ He twitches when Billy barks a laugh like that. ]

It's fine. [ Steve swivels his concerned gaze down on Eddie. ] Want me to go grab you some juice? I can do a snack run.

[heatmetal]

[ he is very high on morphine and looks offended at the idea of being ignored, but. ]

Nah... What I want is on tap but I'm not allowed. [ like tapped directly into his veins. his hand on billy's grows a little softer, thumb rubbing lazily circles against the bump of his bone.

and then, like it's just occurred to him. ] Hey... Did you win?

[camarod]

[He’s laughing again, leaning forward on the bed with his wrist in Eddie’s hand, his own on Eddie’s thigh.

The morphines pretty good -] Oh shit. The fucking storms! Was that you Harrington?

[retromix]

Was what ... ?

[ He notices, then. The way Eddie is holding gently but firmly to Billy's wrist, Billy's hand on Eddie's blanketed thigh. As his words die off, he dredges up an answer and looks at Eddie to hide his momentary frown of confusion as it melts into realisation. ]

There's a lot to talk about, we should wait until you're feeling better.

[heatmetal]

'kay.

[ there is so much they need to talk about. lying to steve... feels wrong. really, really wrong. it's hard to place why. why he gives a shit when they barely know each other. ]

Glad you're in one piece, big boy.

[camarod]

Just sit, man.

[big boy. Real friendly, huh. ]

You smell real good, Harrington. Like - cinnamon. Vanilla.

[retromix]

Are you high?

[ Whatever's going on between them, his candour slips out of good intentions; if Billy is on the loopy medicine too, then ... ]

Dude, if you're drugged up just like him shouldn't you be in bed?

[ With a concerned glance at Eddie. ]

[heatmetal]

[ Eddie laughs. ]

Wild horses couldn't pull this guy away.

[camarod]

They didn’t give me the good shit, I had a little taste of Eddie’s -

[ha - ]

Sorry, man. It’s good shit - E, what is that smell. Like fucking cake, right? Harrington, c’mere.

[retromix]

Oookay, you have definitely been at something.

[ Eddie's? What? He does move closer, albeit just to try and hesitantly steady Billy by the arm if he needs it. ]

Maybe you should sit down, buddy.

[heatmetal]

Powdered sugar, 'cause he's so sweet.

[ Fuck, he smells so good. Eddie can't stop the low growl that rumbles in his throat. ]

[camarod]

You think he’s sweet? Always thought he was a little sour.

[lemon meringue, maybe. billy’s grin has taken on a feral quality, and steve’s hand is hotter than eddie’s and he smells so good. he gets in to his space, figures this is weird, sure, but he can hear the blood rushing, can smell the sugar-sweetness coming out of evert pore.

eddie rumbles and billy feels heady, feels reckless. ] Hey, Harrington. If we tell you a secret, can we have a taste?

[retromix]

[ Something's wrong. Eddie's making a growling noise and Hargrove is back up in his grill like it's senior year all over again, the vibes in the room thickening uncomfortably with confusion and alarm. Not only that but his nonsensical threats aren't making any sense.

Steve quickly walks away to the other side of the room where there's a lamp and he wrenches it free of the wall, fingers curling around its metal stand. Looks don't matter; if you feel like you need a weapon, you likely do.

Something went wrong when they came back.

It's in the lies of their story, he can feel it. ]

What exactly is the goddamn hell up with you two?

[heatmetal]

[ Eddie flinches at the sudden appearance of the weapon, flattening himself to the bed.

If it weren't Steve, he's fairly certain the response wouldn't be flight. ]

S'the morphine.

[camarod]

[He feels like he’s swaying on the spot in the absence of Steve’s proximity. Like when you swallow too much air and it goes straight to your head, dizzying and then clarifying.

Billy’s all fight. This isn’t unexpected. What is is that he doesn’t act in fists and taunts: he reacts in watching Eddie flatten himself like scared animal, in watching the lamp be wrenched free and finally, in the way he glances to the closed door with his teeth bared.]

Put the fucking lamp down, before you hurt yourself, [he says, hackles up.

Steve’s adrenaline spike smells even better, though. Makes him want to corner him in, get his heart racing any way he can. That’s dizzying too.]

[retromix]

Morphine doesn't make people make those sounds, and back off, Hargrove. What the hell's up with your teeth?

[ Those bared things are fangs, Steve's fairly certain. His pulse pounds, still gripping the lamp.

[heatmetal]

Billy, fucking - don't.

[ he's forcing himself upright, grabbing for billy again. realizing that this isn't going to go well - that steve is absolutely stupid enough to escalate the situation and billy is volatile enough to meet it. ]

We're -- we're not going to hurt you, Harrington.

[camarod]

Tell him to put the fucking lamp down then, E.

[He doesn't say speak for yourself, because well. He doesn't want to hurt Steve Harrington so much as he wants to sink his teeth into that pretty neck, just for a while -]

[retromix]

Why are his teeth like that?

[ Steve skids a look at the door, debating how likely it would be that he could escape if needs be. ]