eddie psl post.

[heatmetal]

boop boop banoop

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[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.

[camarod]

We share - [he says, without really thinking. but okay, this is workable. it's doable.

and if Billy's able to drive out of town for a day, and come back fuller, well. who's actually going to complain??]

I'll hack it off myself, how's that?

[retromix]

Oh my God, you're both vampires. Can you please stop talking about hacking off limbs! I'm processing.

[ He's going to lean against the wall by the window, hand in his hair and at the back of his neck. ]

[heatmetal]

Can I keep it afterwards?

[ no, he's going to flirt weirdly. leaning in to kiss him - before steve speaks up, then he's stopping himself.

because yeah. vampires? sure. steve is an open minded modern man. gay dudes? maybe not so much. ]

[camarod]

Baby that sounds metal as fuck -

[the grin is back; softly anticipating and then nothing. which is probably for the best - Billy's still has that lingering terror. the anxiety. ]

Not to be insensitive dude, but we're the least weird shit you've had to deal with this week. For sure.

[retromix]

No, actually, because I've watched a ton of vampire movies and when they talk about body parts there's some kinda conversation about how they're not themselves because they're suddenly okay with people being in pieces. Pardon me for being on goddamn edge.

[ Muttering angrily, he folds his arms and stays where he is. ]

[heatmetal]

[ he covers one of billy's hands with his own, winding their fingers together and turning to look at steve. they should maybe just... wait. to talk about jason. or neil's bloody death. until steve's a little more sure they're not going to eat him on a whim. ]

It's my leg, y'know. B's been playing nurse since he saved my ass so if anybody can talk about my body parts, its him.

[camarod]

I've been a real Florence Nightingale, yeah.

[some old, slightly meaner part of him, does find Steve's discomfort a little funny. like, he imagines he could spook him so easily now. ]

You want me to nurse that wrist of yours too, pretty boy?

[retromix]

[ Steve checks his wrist, shaking his head. ]

I'm fine. Look, whatever this is, [ gesturing to Them(TM) ] I'm okay with it, but I'm not into third-wheeling and you two clearly want to be alone, so I'm gonna go.

[ Eat a whole Dominos pizza, maybe. ]

[heatmetal]

[ they're not exactly hiding it. billy didn't want to - eddie doesn't want to. but his dead heart still hammers in his chest at it being acknowledged.

( and also, guiltily, because it had beaten hard and fast for steve harrington not that long ago. still does. still does. ) ]

... Sorry, man. We can keep our hands to ourselves.

[camarod]

[he tenses for the acknowledgement; it's different playing with it than to be called out, and it's - shit, it's scary. it's goddamn scary; much scarier than wanting to sink his teeth into Steve. slowly his fingers flex, coming away from Eddie's face and settling on his own thighs.

he looks at Steve - really looks at him, wonders how much of Steve Harrington he overlooked just by being a competitive dick. he swallows. ]

Stay. We can figure out the logistics of staying at your place.