satanicpanics: made by <user name="inkonic"> (pic#16613122)
š”ˆš””š””š”¦š”¢ š”š”²š”«š”°š”¬š”« ([personal profile] satanicpanics) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs 2024-11-18 02:49 am (UTC)

Yeah, yeah, you can keep your modesty to yourself, dude. That’s pretty damn close to being Olympic if you ask me.

[ It probably isn’t, and no one did ask him, but he knows Steve is unlikely to attempt to convince him otherwise at this point.

He is insanely nervous. No part of him feels any sense of calm, but it’s nice to feel a different sort of anxiety for once. This isn’t fear, it’s just…anticipation and uncertainty. The talking helps, though he’s aware that it isn’t subtle and his nerves must be stupidly easy to read.

If you don’t stop complaining, I’ll carry you there, and I don’t know if either of us want that.

Well, Eddie chokes, goes red, and he counts himself lucky that Steve turns and just misses the opportunity to watch him stumble oh-so gracefully over his own feet. By the time he’s steadied himself, Steve is already out of his immediate earshot, and Eddie could easily let the entire thing go…but he doesn’t. He’s not quite buzzed, not yet, but the stolen sips of alcohol he’d had in the car haven’t had no effect on him. He cups his hands around his mouth and calls:
]

Well, Harrington, you know what they say about assumptions…

[ He lets his words dip into laughter, leaving it up mystery and interpretation just how serious he’s really being. Either way, he keeps any and all complaints to himself, joking or otherwise, and the two of them make it up to the rocks without further incident.

Eddie does sit when he’s bade to (he’ll pace anxiously for the rest of the evening if he doesn’t), but as expected, he doesn’t sit still. He never does. He’s eternally restless, a quality that even death could only quash for all of two minutes. All that nervous energy has to go somewhere, and the result his his leg jittering, enough to shake his entire body and to rattle the chains and zippers on his jacket.

That and the soft clinking of glass bottles are the only sounds between them for a moment, as Eddie watches the landscape shift into something more familiar. It’s an unexpected feeling, the way it tugs at his heartstrings and makes him yearn for a place that he left on the worst terms possible. Hawkins may have no love for him, but it’s always going to be his home, and part of him truly does miss it. But even if he could go back—

He shakes his head. This isn’t the time or place. Finally, he clears his throat. His gaze flickers to Steve, and he grins as he passes the bottle back.
]

So, uh…It was pretty cool.

[ As promised, he’s stubbornly held onto his compliment for so long that it barely makes any sense with the context is so far behind them, but it’s clearly important to Eddie that he says it, and he’s happy to provide a reminder, unprompted: ]

The car thing. Back there. With the—

[ He makes a gesture that is seemingly meant to mimic the movement of someone sliding across the hood of a car. ]

Yeah. I was very impressed. Just so you know.

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