[In some ways it feels like a relief to be seen. He’s spent so long stuffing all his weaknesses down; all the things that made him warm and kind, the things his mother gave him all locked away. You can’t be hurt if you’re angry, except that had been a lie. Being hurt makes you angry, he guesses.
When he’s disentangled he feels colder. He feels a little wrecked, like he’s just committed a horrible sin, something so terrible that he’ll have no choice but to wrap his fingers around Eddie’s throat and squeeze until he cries too.
But Eddie zips his lip, and Billy’s face is damp, and he doesn’t want to hurt him. So he nods, gets and stumbles to the kitchen. Runs the cold tap and wets his face until the cold shock has soothed his face. Until he stops shaking. All he can say, really, is a soft, quiet:] Thanks.
[ Though there's no need to thank him, saying that won't be a comfort. Not when something as simple as basic human decency is so foreign to him it reduces him to tears.
He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, lights it. Goes quiet as he thinks about what to say and how he wants to say it. ]
[He's hunched over the sink for a moment, letting his face and front curls drip into while he steadies his breathing. In, out, in, out. His head started buzzing somewhere between thanks and you're welcome - it might be the weed.
He grabs a dishtowel - new, microfibre - and dabs his face, turns around and leans back against the sink and shrugs. ] Been known to, sometimes.
[Not just the porn magazines, or the class textbooks he skimmed to graduate. ]
No, because then you'll never fucking do it. [ he blows a smoke ring, grinning lazily. ] I'm sharing the shit I like with you. Common interests. Friendship.
And in exchange you can haul my ass to the gym once in a blue moon.
[He's lighter with the proposition of a project, bouncing on his feet as he steps away from the sink and crosses back over to the couch. He grabs Eddie's hand, grins wide - ] Pain is gain, baby, [and it's hard to say if that's a promise or a threat, but whatever. He will give this boy MUSCLE. STAMINA.
It's a bit of emotional whiplash, obviously. One extreme to this. Still, it's better than crying on Eddie's shoulder. ]
[He sits back, goes back to his comfortable sprawl, all thigh and head tilted back. Maybe he feels better. Maybe. ] I should be saying that you. How's your squat game with that prosthetic?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
When he’s disentangled he feels colder. He feels a little wrecked, like he’s just committed a horrible sin, something so terrible that he’ll have no choice but to wrap his fingers around Eddie’s throat and squeeze until he cries too.
But Eddie zips his lip, and Billy’s face is damp, and he doesn’t want to hurt him. So he nods, gets and stumbles to the kitchen. Runs the cold tap and wets his face until the cold shock has soothed his face. Until he stops shaking. All he can say, really, is a soft, quiet:] Thanks.
[He can’t bear to turn around though. ]
no subject
[ Though there's no need to thank him, saying that won't be a comfort. Not when something as simple as basic human decency is so foreign to him it reduces him to tears.
He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, lights it. Goes quiet as he thinks about what to say and how he wants to say it. ]
You read much, Hargrove?
no subject
He grabs a dishtowel - new, microfibre - and dabs his face, turns around and leans back against the sink and shrugs. ] Been known to, sometimes.
[Not just the porn magazines, or the class textbooks he skimmed to graduate. ]
no subject
[ he folds both hands behind its head. ]
no subject
[Eddie ?? No?? ]
no subject
And in exchange you can haul my ass to the gym once in a blue moon.
no subject
[HOWEVER, however -] You serious?
no subject
[ he shrugs, flicking ash. ]
If we're going to be fighting monsters I should probably start leveling up my physical stats.
no subject
[ :) :)]
no subject
I am gonna regret thiiiiis.
no subject
It's a bit of emotional whiplash, obviously. One extreme to this. Still, it's better than crying on Eddie's shoulder. ]
no subject
[ but they shake, firm. ]
And don't go trying to cheat. I'll know if you tried to watch the movie instead.
no subject
[It's a competitive thing, Eddie. Use it to your advantage. ]
no subject
[ he smiles, big and broad. ]
I'll put you through your paces.
no subject
[He sits back, goes back to his comfortable sprawl, all thigh and head tilted back. Maybe he feels better. Maybe. ] I should be saying that you. How's your squat game with that prosthetic?
no subject
Can't say I've been testing it.
no subject
[He's thinking. He knows sweet fuck all about amputation or recovery, but he figures some movements will hurt. Much to consider. ]
Does it hurt?
no subject
[ he takes another drag of his cigarette. ]
Moshing on it was not the smartest choice.
no subject
[He makes a little grabby hand for the cigarette. A little bratty, maybe. ]
When I first started working out I nearly killed myself with a barbell. Harrington'll kill me if I nearly kill you too.
no subject
[ handing it on over. ]
But he is in overprotective mode.
no subject
[get high. remove stick from butt. doesn't matter how bad he has it, it's a real sad sight to see.
he takes a draw, passes it back. ]
no subject
[ its adorable. in a tragic kind of way. ]
Once we get some answers he'll get settled.
no subject
[He's half-joking. ]
no subject
Let's fucking hope not.
no subject
[He doesn't. Maybe. Steve still has that very appealing quality of being cute when he's on a tangent -]
Is this gonna be weird for us.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)