And no, dude. I've accepted your pecs and abs can't be contained. It won't be any weirder than it was in Hawkins and I had a DTF signal hanging out my back pocket.
[ it's pretty sad, really. eddie twirls a damp curl around his finger. ]
If I'm being totally honest, Steve Harrington doesn't strike me as someone whose had many friends. Real ones. Other than Buckley. Maybe Wheeler. They're ride or die, but complicated. The kids are more like his actual children. So the concept of actually giving a damn about the assholes you hang out with when you wanna get trashed or jock buddies you throw balls in laundry baskets with might be a little foreign to him.
[ this one comes a little later: his fingers don’t feel stable, he feels kind of stupid too, like he wants to get fucked up and be reckless to dissipate the energy.
an hour - maybe closer to two - and he’s showered, finally had a miserable little jack off session in his shower that felt more emotionally wrought than he cares to admit. he’s dressed, made sure he’s extra pretty to go out so he can be stupid and mean somewhere else.
his hands are stable when he finally finds his phone. ]
was that last part about me or him
[ • • • ]
nvm i’ll see you saturday. i’ll make sure i’ve got the goods.
i’m going out to get laid to soothe his delicate ego.
[ he has maybe reached his threshold. his "i am a kind and compassionate shepherd to my flock" and straight into an explosion waiting to happen. He really wants to go fuck something up. Set off fireworks. Get another tattoo. Buy a car.
Something, anything, that dislodges this overwhelming amount of feeling.
It's been a brutal... however fucking long it's been since Chrissy Cunningham was broken to bits in his trailer. And then he was on the run. Then watching Patrick get equally mangled. More hiding. More running. More monsters. Eventually just - fucking dying because he's a fuckup who can't do anything right. Getting trapped in a world not knowing if he'll ever see the town that hated him so much they were willing to do a little mob justice, acclimating to losing part of himself and -
And it's a lot. And he is, maybe, unable to handle these sudden extra balls that have been thrown in. His phone buzzes and he covers his face with a groan, keeping it there until he motivates himself to roll over and -
Fuck. ]
Gonna be real man I don't think Saturday is happening.
[the little read takes five minutes. then there’s a bit longer while he smokes a joint in record time, hanging out his kitchen window like the city air will do anything except line his forehead with humidity.
he has a date. a hot one. thirty minutes from now. all he wants to do is maybe get into a fight. maybe he will. ]
cool
[not with them though. he wants a real fight: something destructive and painful. something that’ll blow his knuckles wide open, that will make his ribs ache for days. ]
It's just 'yeah' for a hot minute. Eddie's practically vibrating. Makes it hard to type when he can't stop jittering his leg. He's got - something, in this room, that he can use to take the edge off. If he can find it. ]
I'm sorry, man. I'm not
[ and then that hangs too, sent when he meant to erase it. ]
[thirty minutes turns to ten, then five, and it’s probably good he’s left his apartment. probably less good that he goes in on the shots, turns on the charm and would much rather go back to their place.
it’s hours and hours, close to two am and billy feels bone tired in a strangers bedroom, joint in hand. there’s maybe a mouth on his dick, he’s maybe a little fucked, maybe a little petty.]
[ While not popular, he's never not had friends. Freaks flock to freaks and he was king of them, ruling over his little court. This is a new kind of loneliness.
Usually a little younger than him, the eternal senior, but friends all the same. People who were around when he needed the company. And the great thing about always having a minimum of three is usually, one is on the outs of any issue you're having. People to distract him when things were shit.
He misses Gareth being a fucking downer, and he misses Jeff's rationality, and Grant always being ready to go to war over absolutely fucking nothing. Misses Dustin being the eternal spot of sunshine, ready to be a goddamn know-it-all about shit no one else cares about. Lucas being just a little too cool for them and knowing it, loyal all the same. Mike not knowing what the fuck he was doing at any given time being being ready to jump in when you called for him.
[in ten minutes he’s fine; a little less tense, cigarette in hand as he tries to reconnect the fuzzy threads of his awareness back together. he isn’t sure he feels better, but to be honest he also isn’t sure why he feels like shit either.
maybe this is why he stopped doing friends. ]
whenever it’s f
fine if you wanna backtrack dude i’m not a pussy hahahaha
[ don't respond don't respond you know it's a bad idea eddie don't reply eddie he's drunk you're high its gonna go ba -- ]
I would rather go back to being thrown in dumpsters than to stay in the middle of this pissing contest. I'm into a lot of weird shit, man, but golden showers are NOT one of them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ ish. shit. he needs to get out of his head about this. ]
Sorry. You got caught in the crossfire.
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he’s stupid as shit. he’ll figure it out.
[the twitchiness is not subsiding. ]
maybe i do my thing and you guys do your thing and we can try this shit again next month for blondie.
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[ his leg jitters nervously against the ground. ]
We're friends. He needs to learn to deal with his insecurity.
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so we’re good for saturday?
it’s not gonna be weird when i’m super hot with no shirt on
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And no, dude. I've accepted your pecs and abs can't be contained. It won't be any weirder than it was in Hawkins and I had a DTF signal hanging out my back pocket.
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enough for one night. ]
No need for homicide.
I'll work on Harrington.
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just had other shit going on.
your ass is fine etc etc
is it bad to laugh
like if i don’t laugh at how stupid this is
i can’t fucking believe this guy thought you were doting on me like i’m a fucking golden retriever???
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If I'm being totally honest, Steve Harrington doesn't strike me as someone whose had many friends.
Real ones. Other than Buckley. Maybe Wheeler. They're ride or die, but complicated.
The kids are more like his actual children.
So the concept of actually giving a damn about the assholes you hang out with when you wanna get trashed or jock buddies you throw balls in laundry baskets with might be a little foreign to him.
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an hour - maybe closer to two - and he’s showered, finally had a miserable little jack off session in his shower that felt more emotionally wrought than he cares to admit. he’s dressed, made sure he’s extra pretty to go out so he can be stupid and mean somewhere else.
his hands are stable when he finally finds his phone. ]
was that last part about me or him
[ • • • ]
nvm
i’ll see you saturday. i’ll make sure i’ve got the goods.
i’m going out to get laid to soothe his delicate ego.
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Something, anything, that dislodges this overwhelming amount of feeling.
It's been a brutal... however fucking long it's been since Chrissy Cunningham was broken to bits in his trailer. And then he was on the run. Then watching Patrick get equally mangled. More hiding. More running. More monsters. Eventually just - fucking dying because he's a fuckup who can't do anything right. Getting trapped in a world not knowing if he'll ever see the town that hated him so much they were willing to do a little mob justice, acclimating to losing part of himself and -
And it's a lot. And he is, maybe, unable to handle these sudden extra balls that have been thrown in. His phone buzzes and he covers his face with a groan, keeping it there until he motivates himself to roll over and -
Fuck. ]
Gonna be real man I don't think Saturday is happening.
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he has a date. a hot one. thirty minutes from now. all he wants to do is maybe get into a fight. maybe he will. ]
cool
[not with them though. he wants a real fight: something destructive and painful. something that’ll blow his knuckles wide open, that will make his ribs ache for days. ]
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[ Fucking, fucking, fuck.
It's just 'yeah' for a hot minute. Eddie's practically vibrating. Makes it hard to type when he can't stop jittering his leg. He's got - something, in this room, that he can use to take the edge off. If he can find it. ]
I'm sorry, man.
I'm not
[ and then that hangs too, sent when he meant to erase it. ]
I'm not gonna be good company right now anyway.
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[thirty minutes turns to ten, then five, and it’s probably good he’s left his apartment. probably less good that he goes in on the shots, turns on the charm and would much rather go back to their place.
it’s hours and hours, close to two am and billy feels bone tired in a strangers bedroom, joint in hand. there’s maybe a mouth on his dick, he’s maybe a little fucked, maybe a little petty.]
don’t worry about it.
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Usually a little younger than him, the eternal senior, but friends all the same. People who were around when he needed the company. And the great thing about always having a minimum of three is usually, one is on the outs of any issue you're having. People to distract him when things were shit.
He misses Gareth being a fucking downer, and he misses Jeff's rationality, and Grant always being ready to go to war over absolutely fucking nothing. Misses Dustin being the eternal spot of sunshine, ready to be a goddamn know-it-all about shit no one else cares about. Lucas being just a little too cool for them and knowing it, loyal all the same. Mike not knowing what the fuck he was doing at any given time being being ready to jump in when you called for him.
He's still awake come 2AM when the phone dings. ]
raincheck?
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[his thumb is a traitor. half-way hovering over e when he’s distracted - and okay yes he definitely is busy - and instead hits send. ]
eeeah
[he’s half laughing. a little high, a lot out of focused.]
rain zeck. 🙏🏻
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Cool.
Let me know when.
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maybe this is why he stopped doing friends. ]
whenever
it’s f
fine if you wanna backtrack dude i’m not a pussy hahahaha
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ass pain reliever i can vouch.
[ be serious billy -]
maybe we should make out
hear me out
and then vomit just so he gets the picture.
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I would rather go back to being thrown in dumpsters than to stay in the middle of this pissing contest. I'm into a lot of weird shit, man, but golden showers are NOT one of them.
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1st for me my man
usually when someone tells me to nack off i already fuxkes their squeeze
[ BE SERIOUS BILLY - ]
i’ll fix it in the am
promise.
we’ll b w good boys.
proooomise.
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