[ he must have died back in hell and earned a place in heaven. Eddie is boneless against him, mustering enough brainpower to kiss Steve's beautiful mouth - panting hard, trembling as his body roars with fresh blood.
He's moving first. Let's Billy pet Steve's chest while he palms him through his jeans, fingers fumbling for the zipper]
[all that fresh blood rushing south has him grinding uselessly against Steve’s thigh while he works his teeth (gently) on Steve’s exposed throat, sucking a mark into life with shallow pants. he could do this forever: a messy cycle of feeding and getting Steve and Eddie off until the world crumbles in around them.
he barely remembers where they are; that a nurse or a doctor could come in at any time and find them so fucking debauched and needy.
he huffs a groan, wants to watch a little as he grazes over a nipple with a thumb, watching Eddie fumble with Steve’s fly and the way they kiss so perfectly messy. he might come in his pants, honestly, he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen anything so beautiful. ]
[ It's a lot all at once but he'd rather it was that way, letting everyone get a turn to act out instead of fretting they weren't here later. He sifts through Eddie's long hair, holding on to him like he's an anchor, while all Billy's grinding at his thigh has him constantly ready for more as he feels pressure palm his dick (okokokyesyesyes) and bucks up reflexively. He chases Eddie's hand with every thrust up, moaning helplessly now he's hit a plateau he can't come back from; Steve turns his head to seek out a kiss from Billy and arches his back to feel more of his hand on Steve's chest too. Steve is a mess, dick slick with precome where it stains his boxers once Eddie gets inside.
He blinks up through heavy lashes, gazing at Billy. Crooks his leg to rub back against the erection he can feel there. ]
[ His head rests heavy on Steve's shoulder, eyes shut as he listens to the frantic beat of his heart. Billy's panting. The sound of their messy kissing. It's heaven.
But they are in public.
He shoves Steve's pants down as far as he can get them, wraps a hand around him and jerks, quick, not lacking finesse and care but determined to ensure this isn't the next scandal to rock their little town. ]
[Local Undead Ruffians Seduce and Corrupt Town Angel has a nice ring to it, really. But Billy’s distracted, can’t quite believe Steve Harrington had kissed him, can’t quite fathom that he’s grinding down onto Steve’s thigh, or that Steve is arching up under the combined effort to make him writhe.
Billy is breathless with them; can’t stop looking at Steve’s glassy eyes and kiss-swollen lips, can’t resist them again, licking in to that sweet mouth, or the openly hungry way he looks down to Eddie’s fist tugging.
He’s surprised the bed hasn’t bowed under them.
Lucid thoughts are fleeting, but he does glance at the door, does consider the possible trouble they’ll be in if there’s a commotion. It’s easy to make a decision when your dick is on board with it. He kisses Steve again, lingering, sweet, then reaches for Eddie, tilting his chin up to murmur into his ear:] He can’t make a mess, need you to keep him quiet.
[Untangling himself is more painful than he’ll care to admit, but it’s a necessary punishment to shift himself down, to bend more comfortably at the foot of the bed, to bow down and press his tongue against the weeping slit of Steve’s erection while Eddie’s fist has slipped down to the base. In hindsight, he probably should have done this for Eddie too, but cleaning up one mess is better than three.
Billy goes down like he’s got all the time in the world, though. All tongue and spit, swallowing Steve down until the head of his dick hits the back of his throat, sucking like he’ll never get the chance again. He’s nice about, thumbs over the precome when his mouth and tongue are busier elsewhere, downright generous when he encourages Steve to buck up, to use his mouth and throat how he wants.
He moans through it, grunts like he can’t get enough, palming himself through his own jeans and fuck, yeah, he might come in his own pants after all.]
[ It's not sex, it's a rollercoaster and Steve is on runaway mode as he careens from being kissed by Billy (who is so enthusiastic (holy shit) to jerked off by Eddie (ChristChristChrist) and then goddamn swallowed down. He moans loudly, muffled by Eddie or not, and his shaky hands grasp at their hair to keep both men close as of they weren't trying to be. Steve arches and his cock spills precome like he's incapable of not getting wet for Billy, turning to cast a nip at Eddie's lips. ]
Bite me. [ It's a breathy demand, cock driving as far down Billy's throat as Steve thinks he can take it. His eyes screw shut and he babbles, whining. ] I'm so close, so close, pleasepleaseplease.
[ It's a fucking fantasy come to life. Unbelievable if he wasn't present, hearing the sounds, feeling the touch. Eddie nips at Steve's lips with sharp sharp teeth and then turns, driving his fangs into an unmarked spot on his throat. Marking him. Claiming him. Ours. ]
[It's for the best that his mouth is occupied: the noises he makes around Steve's cock are muffled, but breathy, gasping moans are still there, like he can't get enough of it. There's an innate sense of control in getting someone off, after all - and sure, sure, Billy's never really hid the fact he's a little bit of a slut.
He paws at Eddie's stomach, needing to touch something to ground him back, to remind him he's got him. When he chances a glance up through his eyelashes, eyes wet and his tongue flat against the slit, his hips jerk against his palm, already so close himself.
It does feel like one of his wet dreams: Steve begging to be bitten, fucking into his mouth so beautifully desperate and out of it. Eddie, so pretty, so possessive and his. It does something to him, makes him feel anchored, or even like he wants to belong here, between them. ]
[ The fangs sinking in push him over the edge. He grips tight on Billy's hair and gasps sharply as his orgasm hits, hips buckling as he shoots his load with tension suffusing him from head to toe. His hair scrubs back on the bed and he shudders a few times before collapsing back, panting like a racehorse and thoroughly loopy on endorphins. ]
[ eddie keeps his teeth in his throat through it all, not sucking but swallowing down the blood that bubbles up through his teeth. he laps gently at the wound, pressing kisses across the abused skin once it's no longer bleeding. ]
[he grunts through swallowing, squeezing himself through his jeans, chasing a release that is right there, until he's bowed with his forehead on Steve's hip, hissing through his teeth as his orgasm hits him hard and fast, has his teeth grazing the meat of Steve's waist to keep his voice low.
this is - a mess. he feels dizzy, feels all of his senses overwhelmed, he could easily slip into a doze if not for the fact that he's absolutely going to have to clean Eddie up while Steve recovers. clean himself up, too - all of that requires moving, which is a real effort to do.
his eyes squeeze shut, just for a moment, while he rides out the orgasm, gets his breath back. gets his thoughts straight. ]
[ As the pleasure ebbs into a warm wave, he nuzzles at what he can of Eddie's hair and brushes idle fingers through Billy's curls, dozing in the afterglow. He can't tell where he aches more, above or below, and it's a heady sensation that Steve finds he likes. A lot.
[ his hand reaches down to join steve's, softly petting billy's hair. further from the post-orgasm haze, he's left with the discomfort of coming in his pants like a goddamn freshman. shifting himself up and glancing to the door, then back to his two partners. ]
Much as I'd like to bask in the afterglow, babes, this was maybe not the best place to consummate whatever the hell we're gonna call this.
What, the adrenaline of giving our charming head nurse a heart attack isn’t doing it for you?
[just - give him a second. he’s enjoying the fingers in his hair, likes the soft strokes and scratches against his scalp. he does wish they were in a real bed, with less clothes
reality is, well, here. his briefs are sticky, he has the taste of Steve’s blood and come on his tongue and they might have broken their - their Steve.
reluctantly he pulls himself up - tucks Steve back into boxers and pants, pulls his shirt down to a respectable midriff length and sighs as he stretches. ] You wanna let him sleep while I wheel you into the bathroom, killer?
[ Steve starts giggling to himself, louder as he tips his head back. It's so stupid that they did this here, haven't worked anything out, didn't talk first. He tugs on their hair to bring them in for brief kisses, giggling all the while. ]
Yeah, none of us are really winning the prize for smartest guy in the room here.
[but Billy is a little insatiable and weak, so up he gods for a kiss, and the noses over to give one to Eddie too.
there’s a wheelchair around somewhere - tucked between the bed and the bathroom. Billy grabs it, does the thing he does now which is crouch while Eddie uses him go get up and settle into it.
hospital bathrooms aren’t really made for two people, but Billy makes do. he leaves Eddie for a minute to grab any clean pair of shorts or boxers Wayne might have left, and a wash cloth and some soap. it’s all very -] If I’m not careful, you’re gonna start expecting spongebaths all the damn time.
[dejavu. he peels Eddie from his shorts, cleans him up, hands him the cloth to finish off while he peels his shoes and jeans off, then his own sodden boxers. he’s real glad he wore them in the end - except now he really does have to go commando. he folds the boxers, takes a moment to splash his face with water and then laughs, slightly manic. ] Holy fucking shit, E. Did that just happen?
Surprisingly, spongebaths are not one of the things that get me hot and bothered. [ but it is... nice aftercare, surprisingly. sweet and tender and soft in all the ways he's not used to. ]
Wouldn't have fucking believed it if the evidence wasn't fucking everywhere. [ he tilts his head back, drumming his hands against his thighs. ] ... Guess if you're dealing with monsters all the time, handling dicks must seem like the most normal thing in the world.
[ his face goes hot. Wants to dispel his discomfort with laughter, because this shit is still new and he doesn't always know how to handle someone looking at him or speaking to him like he's worthy of their attention. ]
[Eddie really is so goddamn pretty; brown eyes so dark that Billy could get lost in them, just stare and stare, counting the little flecks of light. He’s never been romantic, not even in California where he’d been a little freer, a little less tightly wound and more desperate for validation.
Maybe it’s the dying that changes you: maybe the painful non-death of being torn asunder and stitched back together new has rewired some old, jaded part of his brain into something lonelier, less resistant to accepting the way Eddie Munson makes him want to crawl somewhere inside of him so they’re one thing. Maybe it’s Steve Harrington’s blood that makes him want to give into those little fond gestures of love, like getting his hands on Eddie’s hair, or the way he’s getting used to just existing with him, soft kisses and comfortable silences.
Maybe it’s the relief of having someone like him. A little broken, a little in love with Steve Harrington because isn’t everyone?
Except - except no one else is getting to claim Steve Harrington the way they just have. No one else will ever know the raw, primal intimacy of Steve Harrington’s blood on their tongue while he ruts and moans for release. No one will ever get to see that side of Eddie either, and it makes that old, jaded part of himself thrum with mean, possessive glee.
He kisses Eddie, sweet and lingering. Finishes the clean up, wheels him back out to Steve’s dozing form and thinks Friday - Friday they can get the hell out of here and do all of this properly. ]
[ Steve is curled up on the bed, asleep. The blood loss and high of orgasm has wrung him out and his arms are folded where he lies on his side, knees gathered up. He isn't even snoring, passed out and pale where his messy hair is tossed over a pillow. ]
[ it's a beautiful sight. a reminder that things don't have to be godawful for them, that regardless of the fact that they didn't come back right - they did come back.
They got time before the nurses make their rounds. He's content to climb carefully back onto the bed (largely lifted by billy's strong hands) and settle in beside him, pulling Steve to him and inhaling the scent of stupid fancy hair. ]
[He lingers for a while, hand drifting between stroking Eddie and Steve’s hair in turn. Only a while - he pulls himself away to catch the nurse on her way, tells her Eddie’s out cold and could she give him an another hour, please? It’s enough time for him to change into shorts and basketball shirt, slip back inside and slowly rouse Steve awake.
A careful stroke against his cheek, a knuckle smoothing his hair from his forehead. He murmurs his name, a soft wake up sleeping beauty. Lets him come to at his own pace before he glances to the door.
The late afternoon light is nice. Bathes them both in orange hues that makes them look real beautiful. Billy feels that possessive pull again, like he’s part animal trying to sink his scent into their skin. Maybe he can, one day. ]
Nurses are coming soon, pretty boy. You gonna be okay to drive? Or should I call Buckley?
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He's moving first. Let's Billy pet Steve's chest while he palms him through his jeans, fingers fumbling for the zipper]
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he barely remembers where they are; that a nurse or a doctor could come in at any time and find them so fucking debauched and needy.
he huffs a groan, wants to watch a little as he grazes over a nipple with a thumb, watching Eddie fumble with Steve’s fly and the way they kiss so perfectly messy. he might come in his pants, honestly, he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen anything so beautiful. ]
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He blinks up through heavy lashes, gazing at Billy. Crooks his leg to rub back against the erection he can feel there. ]
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But they are in public.
He shoves Steve's pants down as far as he can get them, wraps a hand around him and jerks, quick, not lacking finesse and care but determined to ensure this isn't the next scandal to rock their little town. ]
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Billy is breathless with them; can’t stop looking at Steve’s glassy eyes and kiss-swollen lips, can’t resist them again, licking in to that sweet mouth, or the openly hungry way he looks down to Eddie’s fist tugging.
He’s surprised the bed hasn’t bowed under them.
Lucid thoughts are fleeting, but he does glance at the door, does consider the possible trouble they’ll be in if there’s a commotion. It’s easy to make a decision when your dick is on board with it. He kisses Steve again, lingering, sweet, then reaches for Eddie, tilting his chin up to murmur into his ear:] He can’t make a mess, need you to keep him quiet.
[Untangling himself is more painful than he’ll care to admit, but it’s a necessary punishment to shift himself down, to bend more comfortably at the foot of the bed, to bow down and press his tongue against the weeping slit of Steve’s erection while Eddie’s fist has slipped down to the base. In hindsight, he probably should have done this for Eddie too, but cleaning up one mess is better than three.
Billy goes down like he’s got all the time in the world, though. All tongue and spit, swallowing Steve down until the head of his dick hits the back of his throat, sucking like he’ll never get the chance again. He’s nice about, thumbs over the precome when his mouth and tongue are busier elsewhere, downright generous when he encourages Steve to buck up, to use his mouth and throat how he wants.
He moans through it, grunts like he can’t get enough, palming himself through his own jeans and fuck, yeah, he might come in his own pants after all.]
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Bite me. [ It's a breathy demand, cock driving as far down Billy's throat as Steve thinks he can take it. His eyes screw shut and he babbles, whining. ] I'm so close, so close, pleasepleaseplease.
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He paws at Eddie's stomach, needing to touch something to ground him back, to remind him he's got him. When he chances a glance up through his eyelashes, eyes wet and his tongue flat against the slit, his hips jerk against his palm, already so close himself.
It does feel like one of his wet dreams: Steve begging to be bitten, fucking into his mouth so beautifully desperate and out of it. Eddie, so pretty, so possessive and his. It does something to him, makes him feel anchored, or even like he wants to belong here, between them. ]
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this is - a mess. he feels dizzy, feels all of his senses overwhelmed, he could easily slip into a doze if not for the fact that he's absolutely going to have to clean Eddie up while Steve recovers. clean himself up, too - all of that requires moving, which is a real effort to do.
his eyes squeeze shut, just for a moment, while he rides out the orgasm, gets his breath back. gets his thoughts straight. ]
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A soft croaky noise dislodges from his throat. ]
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Much as I'd like to bask in the afterglow, babes, this was maybe not the best place to consummate whatever the hell we're gonna call this.
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[just - give him a second. he’s enjoying the fingers in his hair, likes the soft strokes and scratches against his scalp. he does wish they were in a real bed, with less clothes
reality is, well, here. his briefs are sticky, he has the taste of Steve’s blood and come on his tongue and they might have broken their - their Steve.
reluctantly he pulls himself up - tucks Steve back into boxers and pants, pulls his shirt down to a respectable midriff length and sighs as he stretches. ] You wanna let him sleep while I wheel you into the bathroom, killer?
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[ Steve starts giggling to himself, louder as he tips his head back. It's so stupid that they did this here, haven't worked anything out, didn't talk first. He tugs on their hair to bring them in for brief kisses, giggling all the while. ]
This was so dumb, c'mere both of you.
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Yeah. It was. Catch a nap and let us get cleaned up, man.
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[but Billy is a little insatiable and weak, so up he gods for a kiss, and the noses over to give one to Eddie too.
there’s a wheelchair around somewhere - tucked between the bed and the bathroom. Billy grabs it, does the thing he does now which is crouch while Eddie uses him go get up and settle into it.
hospital bathrooms aren’t really made for two people, but Billy makes do. he leaves Eddie for a minute to grab any clean pair of shorts or boxers Wayne might have left, and a wash cloth and some soap. it’s all very -] If I’m not careful, you’re gonna start expecting spongebaths all the damn time.
[dejavu. he peels Eddie from his shorts, cleans him up, hands him the cloth to finish off while he peels his shoes and jeans off, then his own sodden boxers. he’s real glad he wore them in the end - except now he really does have to go commando. he folds the boxers, takes a moment to splash his face with water and then laughs, slightly manic. ] Holy fucking shit, E. Did that just happen?
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Wouldn't have fucking believed it if the evidence wasn't fucking everywhere. [ he tilts his head back, drumming his hands against his thighs. ] ... Guess if you're dealing with monsters all the time, handling dicks must seem like the most normal thing in the world.
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[he sounds so weak. turns to drop into a crouch, look up at Eddie with those bright blue eyes in total fucking awe.]
And you, [he says, softer.] You looked real damn beautiful with him.
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Had nothing on you, babe. Trust me.
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Maybe it’s the dying that changes you: maybe the painful non-death of being torn asunder and stitched back together new has rewired some old, jaded part of his brain into something lonelier, less resistant to accepting the way Eddie Munson makes him want to crawl somewhere inside of him so they’re one thing. Maybe it’s Steve Harrington’s blood that makes him want to give into those little fond gestures of love, like getting his hands on Eddie’s hair, or the way he’s getting used to just existing with him, soft kisses and comfortable silences.
Maybe it’s the relief of having someone like him. A little broken, a little in love with Steve Harrington because isn’t everyone?
Except - except no one else is getting to claim Steve Harrington the way they just have. No one else will ever know the raw, primal intimacy of Steve Harrington’s blood on their tongue while he ruts and moans for release. No one will ever get to see that side of Eddie either, and it makes that old, jaded part of himself thrum with mean, possessive glee.
He kisses Eddie, sweet and lingering. Finishes the clean up, wheels him back out to Steve’s dozing form and thinks Friday - Friday they can get the hell out of here and do all of this properly. ]
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They got time before the nurses make their rounds. He's content to climb carefully back onto the bed (largely lifted by billy's strong hands) and settle in beside him, pulling Steve to him and inhaling the scent of stupid fancy hair. ]
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A careful stroke against his cheek, a knuckle smoothing his hair from his forehead. He murmurs his name, a soft wake up sleeping beauty. Lets him come to at his own pace before he glances to the door.
The late afternoon light is nice. Bathes them both in orange hues that makes them look real beautiful. Billy feels that possessive pull again, like he’s part animal trying to sink his scent into their skin. Maybe he can, one day. ]
Nurses are coming soon, pretty boy. You gonna be okay to drive? Or should I call Buckley?