eddie psl post.

[heatmetal]

boop boop banoop

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[heatmetal]

You're safe, big boy... I didn't do what I did just for it to end like this.

[ more to himself than steve. he presses a soft kiss to the wrist, trying to sense the best place to bite - licks to anesthetize the area, and then those sharp fangs are sinking in. ]

[camarod]

[it’s not jealousy that pools in his gut. it’s a strange relative that feels like want and longing. he can smell the blood, yeah, but the kiss, the tongue - Billy watches Steve’s face and feels something in him break, just a little.

he looks at Eddie bent over that wrist and feels his chest swell. he goes a little slack jawed, finds himself up and at Eddie’s side, fingers sliding to stroke through his hair.

to Steve, he murmurs, low:] Doesn’t hurt much, does it?

[retromix]

[ His breath stutters at the kiss and lick, hitching tight as fangs pierce his skin. It doesn't hurt much, no, but it still feels like his blood is being sucked out. Shuddering as he fights not to pull away, he feels out Eddie's arm and latches onto the hospital gown's sleeve, head bowed away from the sight he knows is happening. ]

Feels ... weird.

[ Breathe, he tells himself, just breathe. ]

[heatmetal]

[ maintain control. don't lose it. he's -- starving. and steve tastes like heaven. far better than jason carver could ever dream to be. he leans his head into billy's hands, eyes shutting as he revels in the euphoria. ]

[camarod]

Stings? [soft, soft strokes. the smell is maddening. he doesn’t know how Eddie isn’t losing his shit, doesn’t know how he’s holding himself back either.

because there’s Steve looking away, exposing that pale neck. open, inviting, and his hand grips tightly for a moment in Eddie’s hair as he forces himself to stay.]

[retromix]

Stings like a bitch, yeah. H-How much more?

[ Swearing under his breath, he licks his dry lips. ]

[heatmetal]

[ he has to stop. now. before he can't. eddie pulls himself off, the the compulsion is there and he wants to sink his teeth back in to that soft, living skin. suck steve dry. he's hungry and he's a starving man who just had a taste and -

he turns and bites billy instead. ]

[camarod]

[he isn’t expecting it. too distracted by Steve’s heartbeat, and then he’s snapped back, breath hitching into a surprised groan, the grip tightening.

it stings good, but maybe that’s just him.] Jesus, E, warn a guy -

[especially when he’s running low.] Fuck - Steve either give me that wrist or go put some gauze on it.

[retromix]

[ He startles at the violence in Eddie's bite as it transfers to Billy, the sudden move with a slight edge of inhuman speed as well as the hunger. Dripping blood on the sheets, he stares at Eddie feeding and follows the train of energy from Billy to ... himself.

He offers him his wrist, watching him steadily. ]

[heatmetal]

[ the smell is driving him wild. his fingers twist in billys shirt, drinking down his own leftovers. it's stale and rancid in comparison to Steve's blood on his tongue, leaving him near crying with frustration. ]

[camarod]

[Billy doesn’t bite. he licks, then sucks a wet kiss over the wound. the blood is so hot and sweet, has his head reeling with how it intoxicates. he keeps his mouth there until the wound clots, tongue flat against Steve’s pulse.

he realises he’s panting some time after it: too much sensation from Steve (the smell, the warmth, the sticky sweet blood) and Eddie’s teeth baring down hard. he feels half-feral with it, wants to bite down just as hard to hear either one of them beg.

it’s a marvel he has ant restraint at all.] He tastes real good, E. [murmured against Steve’s wrist. ]

[retromix]

[ It's strange to have his wrist numb but also feel the pain lacing up his arm, the ache of a headrush as more blood leaves his system. Steve bites his lip, trying to focus; Eddie's torment is horrible to see. ]

He needs to heal faster than this. Give him my wrist again.

[ Steve would, but he feels all floppy. ]

[heatmetal]

[ he's not letting go of billy's skin, teeth deep in his bicep, curling against him while his claws tear at the fabric of his shirt.

he tastes good. sweetens billy's blood - his blood - and makes his head spin. when he's slightly more himself he licks the bloody wound in apology. ]

[camarod]

If either of us heal faster, people are gonna notice.

[A whole coherent sentence for how loopy he feels between Steve and then the immediate blood loss. It’s a new feeling, makes him sway slightly, reaching for Steve to steady himself. He lets the wrist drop as he does so, feels himself turning just enough to put the other arm around Eddie, pulling him head to chest, bicep knitting itself back together while his fingers sink into curls.

It reminds him a little of falling, the lightheadedness. The drop on a rollercoaster, or the way a high hits fast and hard. He should lie down, probably. In his own hospital bed, away from Steve and away from Eddie, because he feels real checked out. ]

[retromix]

We can't just leave him like this, his leg ...

[ He brings his wrist back up, staunching bloodflow with his palm. Steve gets off the bed to crash in the chair nearby, head tipped back as he catches his breath and tries not to feel lightheaded, having lost a pint of blood. ]

Jesus, fuck.

[heatmetal]

[ he's panting. seeing Steve hurt and bloody is... Doing it for him. that's something to unpack later, when his gaze isn't as predatory. ]

They're going to cut it off. That's... Less blood... I'll need.

[camarod]

I told him there's a whole basketball team of pricks to fix it, but -

[he's half joking. he wishes he weren't, honestly. it wouldn't be a waste at all, given the mentality the towns been under. but, humanity. he's supposed to be holding onto it.

(steve is - yeah. something to unpack later, because billy can't quite pull his eyes away. )]

- Put pressure. Hard. It'll stop bleeding soon.

[retromix]

Christ, Eddie. You're not losing your leg.

[ Groaning where his head is tipped back, he swallows dryly. Steve's life hasn't been normal for so long, he's not even weirded out by leaning into it this way. ]

You can feed regularly from me.

[heatmetal]

[ he swallows hard. ]

Steve...

[camarod]

[he waits - just in case Eddie adds anything else. let's this moment pass between all of them before he rolls his eyes slightly. this is an argument that'll probably go on and on if they let it, and Billy agrees. Eddie shouldn't have to lose his leg, but the amount of blood it would take is - more than Steve can give. Maybe eight or nine people, maybe less. Maybe more.

he untangles Eddie from his arms, holds him slightly at arms length and takes his face in his hands. ] He'll kill you, Harrington, if you let him do that. [he's looking in those big brown eyes, though. searching. ] E, there's a full town. Not all of 'em are good. Not even all of 'em need to end up dead. Just enough to - to do something.

[retromix]

Not if he does it bit by bit. Every couple of days. Blood remakes more of itself, right? I'm free real estate.

[ He might be snorting to the ceiling, lips twisted in a reluctant laugh that catches in his chest. ]

[heatmetal]

[ he states back into billys blue eyes, biting his lip. It gives him a chance to gather his sluggish thoughts. ]

.. I just got cleared for murder charges, B. The whole town is going to be watching my every move. If people start waking up with vampire bites they're going to burn us alive.

[ he looks to Steve, pressing his lips together. ]

You'll be constantly anemic, man. This... This is some heavy duty shit.

[camarod]

Then when go towns over -

[there's just slight frustration. ]</small. He's right, Harrington. It can't just be you.

[retromix]

What, do you idiots think I've got basketball games to get to?

[ He sits up, sending them a frown and folding his legs. ]

Who else do you know that owns a house big enough to hide you both with enough security to keep out people? Not monsters, but vampires kinda trump demodogs if you ask me and busybodies are gonna be more dangerous for a while just like Eddie said.

[ He tilts his head at Billy and raises his wrist, covered in drying blood. ]

Unless you're so starved from living in that hellhole you want to keep me all to yourself, Hargrove. You get a taste too, you know.

[heatmetal]

[ It's not like they have other options. And it'll take months to heal, to relearn how to walk, on a prosthetic. If they've got a safe place to hunker down and heal, then it shouldn't matter how long it takes.

But he knows Billy's been feeding less for his sake. ]

Okay. But if it becomes too much - the leg's coming off.