eddie psl post.

[heatmetal]

boop boop banoop

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[heatmetal]

Shut the fuck up, man. I saw your face the moment you clocked the hanky.

[ he laughs and leans forward for another kiss. ]

Should've kissed you then. Kinda thought you might rip my face off, but it'd have been wortu it.

[camarod]

Yeah, maybe.

[Maybe not. He's not sure, really. He never got the courage to be anything more than an asshole to Steve Harrington, so who can say. What he does know, is, well, he's chasing that kiss. Moving to straddle Eddie real nice, hands either side of his head.

What he wants now, honestly, is his mouth and teeth on him. ] Maybe you would've put me in my place. Hindsights a bitch.

[heatmetal]

[ there's only a towel and a pair of tatty jeans between them. Eddie looks up, pupils blown wide with desire. ]

Lucky we got second chances, then.

[camarod]

Here’s to second chances, [he says before he inches down, nosing against him and then nipping at Eddie’s jaw. He kisses him slow, despite what he’s just been saying. Licks into his mouth like they’ve got all night. Fuck, maybe the do.

He makes a content sound at the back of his throat, almost like a purr and shifts his hips just enough to grind down. ]

[heatmetal]

[ Eddie lazily explores the body above him. Hands sliding down his sides, up along the musculature of his chest. Tongue dancing along the sharp points of his teeth, grinning when it catches and he tastes iron. ]

[camarod]

[Billy’s all in after that first kiss. He kisses lazily until he’s breathless and half hard under his towel. Finds himself melting under Eddie’s hands, and then goes a little stupid with knowing he can kiss wherever he wants. So he does: teeth and tongue along his throat, palms hot against his sides.

He kisses down to tease a nipple and then breaks, looking up at Eddie through his eyelashes, cautious. ] I really want my mouth on you, but - you gotta tell me if it starts to hurt. [The leg, he means. ]

[heatmetal]

[ He was touch-starved before all this. Hard and breathless and wanting in such an embarrassingly short amount of time. Thankful for Carver's little donation - thinking, sadistically, of how much it'd bother him to know his life went to his killers fucking. ]

Promise. Even if I like the hurt.

[camarod]

[He’s sceptical, sure, but he’s hornier. His grin is wolfish, teeth grazing a nipple with about all the self-restraint he has left.

He makes short work of Eddie’s tatty jeans, kissing along his hips while he drags them down slow, ever so careful not to lift Eddie’s hips too high. He might’ve been meaner had the bata not gone to town. He finds himself not minding the softness, though. Enjoying it, even. He just wishes Eddie could fuck his throat raw - but maybe another day, when they’re finally done with this whole mess.

His hand teases over his boxers while he nips at a hip bone: palm flat against the shape of him, feeling out the length, what he’s working with. He’s impatient, though, and he makes quick work of those too.

Billy Hargrove groans at the sight of Eddie’s dick. He’s not even embarrassed about it - thinks if anyone had gone this long alone they’d be hard just looking at it too. His mouth waters, finds himself spitting on a hand and ducking down to lick a wet hot stripe up to the crown, fingers curling all the base to stroke. His tongue is sloppy against the head - Fuck you are so goddamn beautiful, Eddie. [and then he swallows him down.]

[heatmetal]

Fuck, Billy.

[ The sight of him alone is heavenly. Eddie moans loud and shameless - like the concept of an inside voice has never occurred to him, ringed fingers curling in those blond locks and winding tight but he lets Billy steer.

It doesn't go long. Eddie is, frankly, more than a little doped up on painkillers and it's been a while. The sensations are nigh overwhelming, he barely manages to issue a warning. ]

[camarod]

[Billy’s real enthusiastic. He goes deep, moans around Eddie’s dick like he’s in heaven, and even without a warning he still manages to be obscene about swallowing.

He catches his breath against Eddie’s good thigh, tugging himself in slow, short strokes. Moans soft and needy and tastes Eddie on his tongue. He feels boneless and he hasn’t even come yet.]

[heatmetal]

[ he needs a moment to catch his breath, uncurl his toes and come back to his body.

And billy's still a vision. Eddie shudders and licks his lips, giving a light tug to his hair. ]

Come up here, baby. Let me take care of you.

[camarod]

[It takes him a moment. He’s warm, he feels good, could get off just like this if he wanted. But wants whatever Eddie will give, so he moves, leans over to press his forehead to Eddie’s, pants softly as he strokes.

He finds he likes the baby, not that he’ll say it.]

[heatmetal]

[ he wants to sample that sound. Mix it into every song he ever plays. Let's both thumbs brush over perky pink nipples, admires the flush against sunkissed golden skin.

A ringed fingers make their way down slowly, knuckles gently brushing along the length of him before shootming his hands away to take over. Free arm wrapping around him, soft praise mindlessly murmured. ]

[camarod]

[It might be the praise that does it. Balancing his hands on the bed, hips twitching into Eddie’s hand, forehead to forehead - it could be all of that, sure, but the praise has his eyes stinging. It has his moans coming out short and high pitched, has him trying to hide his face in Eddie’s shoulder when it becomes too much.

He’s not sure which one sends him over the edge, but he’s a little wrecked, trembling with the effort to stay up right, eyes wet and mind blissfully empty. the noise wrought out of him is somewhere between a sob and a hiccup, slightly pathetic and raw.]

[heatmetal]

[ he peppers kisses to the crown of that curly head, more praise at how lovely he is as he comes undone. working him through it until he's too sensitive to touch- not at all minding the mess.

He guides Billy down with his free hand, urging him to lay against his good sifr. Once he's settled, cleans then both off with the wet towel and then eased himself back down. ]

[camarod]

[He's all shallow breaths as he goes down to Eddie's good side, bigger and warmer with an arm around him. He's a goner, honestly. He feels - hmm. Slightly parasitic in that yeah, he kind of wants to sink his teeth into Eddie and not give him up.

It's his fault, really. He should've been mean. ]

[heatmetal]

[ he's a little in love. Perhaps it's just the trauma bond. Perhaps it's because Billy is built like an angel, people should be writing sonnets about him.. hard not to want to hold, to keep.

He curls close, lets his fingers play with those golden curls. ]

You good, angel?

[camarod]

Yeah, I’m great.

[This is said against Eddie’s neck. He feels unwound for the first time in a long, long time. He feels real - feels tangible. ]

I’m gonna have to bleed you soon, [this is a complaint, because he is very comfortable where he is.]

[heatmetal]

We can nap a little before we get down to business.

[ god knows billy deserved the breather. ]

[camarod]

[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. ]

[heatmetal]

[ it's not the nicest awakening he's ever had. eddie comes into awareness with a yowl, his clawed hand shooting out fast and fierce for his attacker, grabbing the side of billy's face.

relaxing only when he recognizes who it is. those enormous brown eyes flicker uncertainly from his face to the pot, and then he remembers. ]

Jesus, Hargrove. Warn a guy.

[camarod]

[Hmmm, yes. He will examine exactly how much he likes that later, when they're not busy, and Eddie is not in fight or flight mode. ] I did.

[You were sleeping, is the obvious end of that. There's a little bit of pressure he puts on the arm, encouraging the blood flow. ] You sleep like the dead, by the way.

[heatmetal]

That'd be the opioids.

[ He sighs, letting go to scrub at his eyes with the hand not currently donating to their escape plan. ]

[camarod]

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.

[heatmetal]

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...

hungry.

Painfully hungry. ]