[he makes another truly mortifying sound when he’s placated with tongue and saliva, wound knitting closed in a way that feels like a pinch. there’s a laugh bubbling out of him as he grips Eddie’s arms, feeling absolutely wasted. like he dropped some k on an empty stomach and expected it not to send him flying.

he’s not sure why Eddie’s hysterical - like, yeah, sure, he drinks blood now, but he’s fine, mostly. ]

Dude, [this is slurred as he laughs again, the back of his head pressing against the wall. ] I feel fucking cold as shit, but like I’m stoned?

[he has perhaps suffered some minor shock. ] It’s so fucking okay, man, I feel great - can you carry me to - to my place.

[his old place, not the shared apartment. it’ll be less awkward, he thinks. for them both. plus - he has all his pre work out there. bloodloss brain thinks that’ll help.] It’s uuuhhh. Fuck, ha, Central City.