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[measuringdicks]

welcome to the trench chapter of interdimensional hostage bullshit anonymous! unfortunately no one can come to the phone right now because we’re being fucked over by the multiverse again, so leave a message after the beep. we’ll get back to you if we’re still here.

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[klussy]

(Eddie doesn't really expect Richie to come out. Not for lack of caring, but it was early in the morning. He has three relatively self-contained breakdowns which was mostly a lot of him trying to suppress new powers he didn't understand super well yet.

By the time Richie's in the greenhouse, Eddie's calmed down substantially and is sitting at a workbench, stooped over some blood vials. He wasn't doing anything with them though, mostly just staring, because he was tired too.

He looks up in surprise, shifting his own glasses (which listen he HAD to wear this early in the morning).)

Oh. Thanks. (Awkward. He realizes how weird it was for him to just ...do that...and at this point he felt more embarrassed and ashamed than anything else. He takes the hot chocolate from Richie, fidgeting.)

Not really. (He wobbles a leg a bit on the bar beneath the workbench. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and makes a low, appreciative sound.)

It sounds really needy like that. (God. He rubs at his forehead, trying not to immediately pivot into negative emotions the way he's been spiraling hard lately. The paranoia is enough to make black specks start to manifest on the back of his hand and he shakes it, tucking his hand between his legs and tries to focus on - something. He has no idea how to control his emotions.)

But I guess I probably should. I'm pretty sure my blood makes me toxic to be around. I mean literally toxic. But also I need to drink blood I guess to feel emotions to begin with now? But then when I do feel emotions it's a lot and it's dangerous and I kind of feel like I'm going through emotional puberty or something. (Or maybe it was just whatever the fuck was going on in his head. He stops, staring at his hot chocolate.)

Sorry I woke you up.

[measuringdicks]

Don't be. 'M sorry I blew you off, that was shitty of me. Even if I was sleepy.

[He sits down next to him, sipping at his own chocolate and leaning against Eddie's side with his free hand between them, two fingers resting on Eddie's leg. Just listens to him talk, intently, the gears turning behind his eyes.]

Maybe you're just—adjusting to the new blood. Or new powers. Maybe once you've had them for a while your emotions will level out. [He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, pensive.] Or maybe you need a steady, stable supply of blood. If you stop feeling things for a little while, of course you're gonna feel like you got hit with emotional puberty once you drink blood and you get them back.

[klussy]

(Eddie falls quiet, unusually quiet for him, his own brain going a mile a minute. He was watching Richie's hand on his leg, frowning. He really didn't want to talk about this anymore, he realized, but it was all stuff that needed to be said. If only for Richie's sake at this point. He gently pushes Richie's hand away.)

That's what I was getting at earlier. We probably shouldn't really touch too much anymore 'til I know what's going on.

(Which wasn't...great. He rubs at the back of his neck, feeling awkward and nervous all at the same time. It made flecks of black spores start to wisp off his hand and he gives it a shake.)

You're probably right. There's just a fuckton going on. I don't know. We can just ease back. I already feel like I demand way too much from - us. I don't want to add 'literally poisoning you' on top of it.

[measuringdicks]

Oh.

[The quiet devastation on Richie's face probably says it all. But he sucks in a breath and nods, because he gets it, he also doesn't want to be fucking poisoned either. But he leans in to nudge Eddie's side with his elbow, anyway.]

You don't demand too much from me, Eds. It's you. [He pauses.] I mean, fuck, I don't wanna get poisoned, sure, let's avoid getting poisoned. We'll hold hands through rubber gloves if that's what it takes. But everything else? I'd give you anything.

[A breath.]

I'm fine with easing back, but if it's because you feel like you're imposing too much on me or whatever—you don't. Okay? [He speaks with certainty, a serious weight on his voice.] If I ever feel like you're demanding anything I couldn't give, trust me, you'd fucking know. And as for everything else...

[Yeah, they do have problems, don't they. Richie runs a hand through his unruly mop of dark hair, exposing the hole where one ear used to be. It's healed over well by now, but it's not something he tends to show people very often.]

...what kinda blood do you need? Specific type or just, any old blood will do?

cw: homophobia

[klussy]

Sorry.

(He doesn't look at Richie then, looking down instead at the vials. Mostly because he knew the face Richie must be making and he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle it. It wasn't like their thing for over-touching had begun only after they started dating. They had never had any real personal space between them their entire friendship. Even now, it felt weird to not reach back out to Richie.

He fiddles with his prosthetic, popping finger joints out before clicking them back into place, feeling an increasing sense of pressure in his chest. He does glance at Richie then, and part of him just wants to throw caution to the wind and throw his arms back around him and start sobbing hysterically just to get it out of his system. His eyes linger over where Richie's ear used to be and he knows - knows they haven't been those boys in a long time. And they likely never would be ever again at this point.

But it's the part of him that knows he could possibly kill Richie with that kind of emotional outburst that has him staying in his seat. His eyes are wet, but more than that, his eyes have grown dark where the whites should be. Black flecks began to fester across his cheek, consuming first his freckles and then creeping over towards the side of his head.)

I am too much. You're way too patient with me. I feel like maybe I - (He takes in a slow, measured breath, trying to calm down enough to get the spores to chill. That was so much easier said than done.)

I was really selfish. I've had way more years to adjust to stuff and I was completely desensitized by how many people just constantly leave. Everyone leaves. Everyone. (Even the people he figured never would.) And it made me feel too jaded about being private 'cause I just figured anyone who found out would be gone in a month, so who cares. But it was shitty of me to want so much from something so new. And to like, make you feel guilty for not being able to be open with me. I don't even want to be open anymore anyway.

(It was stupid. It had always been stupid. A few spores float off of his skin and he rubs at his cheek, feeling some of the pressure break apart.)

Seems like any blood will do. It doesn't really feel like being a vampire again. I don't feel blood-starved. But I've only really been trying warmblood lately.