[Reflexes are still high wired, of course - he catches it in a fist, hesitates on whether he should crash in Eddie's place, like somehow that might be a step too far in a day that has been full of weird little steps. His jaw grinds and he nods, then again. Pushing away from the counter, he feels a little jittery, suddenly.
Phew. ] Yeah. Yeah, thanks.
[PHEW. ] You need anything I'll be - y'know.
[It's a little cowardly that he is bailing now, but fuck it. Eddie seems very tender, Steve is very vulnerable and he doesn't belong here during it. So he hooks the key into his palm, gives a stiff little wave and escapes through the door and down the hall.
When he's in Eddie's room, he breathes hard. He's in a mood; the kind that he used to break stuff in, but now he's just too fucking tired for it. He does the next best thing; ditches his jacket, rummages around Eddie's shit for a joint and then lights one off. He kicks his shoes off, dips into the bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror.
Some part of Billy Hargrove stares back. His eyes seem so flat, and with the splint between his lips, he pulls his shirt open to look at the scars, to try and superimpose himself onto this body in a way where the two sides fit. Eddie Munson has let him crash in his space, Steve Harrington can't handle his liquor and Billy Hargrove doesn't know how to always be the person he's been today. Doesn't know if he can be it tomorrow once he's sober and had time to overthink and ruminate in his own jealousy and longing.
The blunt is burned down to fingertips when he finally strips down and climbs into Eddie's shower. For a while he just stands under the ice cold water, before he remembers heat is fine now - then he cranks it up hard and if he chokes a little, no one will here. If he jerks off in Eddie Munson's shower with ring-clad knuckles gripping his hair in his mind to force him deeper, or that tongue tasting the sweat from his neck instead of the air - no one will fucking know. If he comes with tears in his eyes, half-laughing in hysteria, no one will know.
By the time he crashes into Eddie's bed, he's naked, hair damp and he's out cold not long after his head hits the pillow. Idly, he hopes Steve doesn't choke on his own vomit. Hopes Eddie at least got to sleep in the bed. ]
no subject
Phew. ] Yeah. Yeah, thanks.
[PHEW. ] You need anything I'll be - y'know.
[It's a little cowardly that he is bailing now, but fuck it. Eddie seems very tender, Steve is very vulnerable and he doesn't belong here during it. So he hooks the key into his palm, gives a stiff little wave and escapes through the door and down the hall.
When he's in Eddie's room, he breathes hard. He's in a mood; the kind that he used to break stuff in, but now he's just too fucking tired for it. He does the next best thing; ditches his jacket, rummages around Eddie's shit for a joint and then lights one off. He kicks his shoes off, dips into the bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror.
Some part of Billy Hargrove stares back. His eyes seem so flat, and with the splint between his lips, he pulls his shirt open to look at the scars, to try and superimpose himself onto this body in a way where the two sides fit. Eddie Munson has let him crash in his space, Steve Harrington can't handle his liquor and Billy Hargrove doesn't know how to always be the person he's been today. Doesn't know if he can be it tomorrow once he's sober and had time to overthink and ruminate in his own jealousy and longing.
The blunt is burned down to fingertips when he finally strips down and climbs into Eddie's shower. For a while he just stands under the ice cold water, before he remembers heat is fine now - then he cranks it up hard and if he chokes a little, no one will here. If he jerks off in Eddie Munson's shower with ring-clad knuckles gripping his hair in his mind to force him deeper, or that tongue tasting the sweat from his neck instead of the air - no one will fucking know. If he comes with tears in his eyes, half-laughing in hysteria, no one will know.
By the time he crashes into Eddie's bed, he's naked, hair damp and he's out cold not long after his head hits the pillow. Idly, he hopes Steve doesn't choke on his own vomit. Hopes Eddie at least got to sleep in the bed. ]