[The pipe is taken, but held instead of pulling on. Tommy looks up at her with dark eyes, a little darker from the weed. He smiles, shakes his head.] Never met another Dida. And.
[He waves the insinuation away with his free hand before crossing his arms on the bed. The position pulls on the stitches but his nerves are pleasantly cosseted and for the moment he doesn't move.] Not a lot of girls. Got... [Control issues. He tongues the words in his mouth.] You know. Catholic upbringing. We're good boys. [Didn't hurt, anyway, having his role model end up in wedded not-bliss when he got his high school sweetheart knocked up. Without real thought, Tommy's eyes track to the box of condoms he'd thrown down on the dresser across the room.]
[ She's not surprised he's never met another girl like her. Eddie is, whether fortunate or not, a one-of-a-kind kind of woman, even she knows that.
She firmly tells the smug little demon in the back of her mind to shut the hell up and stop crowing over the fact that it kind of sounds like Tommy's not the type of man to go out and pick up girls at bars (or music festivals) to fuck and then immediately forget. That's irrelevant.
It gets a little bit harder not to think about it when he bends closer, propping up his elbows on the bed beside her crossed knees. Her hand automatically finds its way to his shoulders without any conscious direction from her brain, and she finds herself carefully tracing the edges of his bandages through his shirt. ]
You know, when I was in high school, my shitty hometown was all convinced I was the leader of some kind of demonic cult hell-bent on seducing their corn-fed Indiana babies away from the light of the Lord? [ She gives him a crooked smile, twirling the end of one curl from his ponytail around her fingertip. ] A good Catholic boy like you oughta keep his distance.
Think I read something like that. [An admission he wouldn't make, sober; giving up the fact that he's looked into her like some groupie, pulling up search results on the internet. He hadn't done a lot of poking, but the wide web of fans give up their thoughts pretty easily. He's still here. He still thinks she's beautiful.
Tommy's head rocks forward, hanging slightly in response to the touch of Eddie's fingers on him.] Some might think so but I've seen enough that I can't really believe in that anymore. But maybe I want to, because you sing like someone pulled you off a cloud. Like maybe it all really exists if you can sing like you do.
You did? [ He's got a favorite song and he's read at least her band's Wiki page; she'd be worried she was picking up a fan except he's more of a colleague now, and at this stage of their acquaintance, she's having a hard time thinking of him as anything other than what he is: a handsome man who looks at her like she's worth something, worth knowing. And Eddie's never had very good self-control.
He lets his head fall down a little, leaning in closer to her, and she lets her fingertips play along the back of his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his borrowed shirt to touch his warm skin. ]
Tommy. [ God, he's sweet. How the hell is an Army vet, a fucking sniper, so sweet? She can believe he was raised Catholic, a true believer, that he never let himself go out and have too much of a wild youth, when he says shit like that to her. How the hell is she supposed to resist that? ] I'm hardly an angel, papi. Kind of the opposite, really.
[His shoulders raise and fall in a soft approximation of a laugh at her using that damn word again but maybe she was right in the beginning: the shape of it sounds good in her mouth. Eddie's fingers feel as hot as brands against the air-conditioned skin of his back.] Way I count it, it's been... [He tilts his arm just enough to check his watch.] About four hours.
Four hours since I met you and you've gone out and done a set you could have begged off to for a field full of wet fans, helped break down a stage you didn't have to when your crew was short-staffed, offered comfort to some random stranger when he was in pain, and. [Tommy chuckles, moving just enough to tap the bottom of the pipe lightly against Eddie's shin as he looks up at her.] Shared your very good stash with that same pendejo. Don't sound to me like you got the devil in you, chica.
Sure wish you'd been around in Hawkins when everyone was convinced I was a Satanist and-or possessed. Coulda saved me a lot of trouble and heartache.
[ She's joking, obviously, to cover the squirmy feelings she's battling under her skin. Of course she did all that shit. How could she not? Those kids out there, the fans, they scrimped and saved to get tickets (or found a way to sneak in) specifically to see their favorite bands play. The crew work their asses off to make sure that the show's a success. Tommy's hardly a random stranger to her, not now. And she always shares her weed.
He tilts his head to look up at her, tapping the warm pipe against her leg, and Eddie watches her free hand lift from her lap so she can trail the tip of her finger down the bridge of his nose. ]
[Tommy blinks up at Eddie as her finger slides down his nose and he's not it's not the weed telling his brain to kiss her.] I don't have freckles. [He does, he knows he does. He doesn't hate them but sure doesn't love them either.] Yours look like constellations on a cloudy night.
[ She laughs at him, the weed in her system making everything just that little bit funnier than it really is, and cups his face in her palm. ]
Yes you do!
[ His are much more pronounced than hers, dark and obvious and painfully charming. Eddie's are really only obvious when she's blushing, or when she's taken her makeup off like she has this evening, when her skin is bare and she's allowing herself to feel flattered by an attractive man making eyes at her.
No, I'm saying there's an impression of a fuller picture. [His voice is softer than it might have been otherwise, now that Eddie's hand is on his face. Tommy's heart is doing a very slow, very heavy, tapdance against his ribs.]
Can I kiss you? [It's out of his mouth, no attempt made to snatch it back.]
[ Eddie's never met Tommy's brother, knows nothing about him besides his full legal name, but she feels fairly confident she can guess which one of them is the song-writer in that duo, if the things Tommy says to her are any indication.
She's feeling a little soft and hazy around the edges, her sharpness blurred by the weed and the fact that they've spent so much time together tonight and Tommy literally put himself between her and at least a very painful injury if not something more serious.
It means when he asks to kiss her, she doesn't turn it into some kind of joke, doesn't say something snarky or quippy in return, just brushes her thumb over his cheek and nods, a pleased little smile curling her lips. ]
Yeah. [ She'd like that a lot, actually. But then she adds: ] Give me the pipe, though, I don't want to accidentally set the bed on fire.
[Eddie wouldn't be wrong; Joel's mind is calculating, logical - he's good with the music itself, the craftsmanship of fingers on frets while Tommy is... artistic. 'Sensitive.' He enjoys constructing sentiment out of words in a way that is capable of laying down tracks for Joel to follow - though he doesn't think that Joel would consider it that way.
He likes the softened edge to her answer, that lilt of a smile that doesn't try to be anything be pleased - some people would call him stupid, or naive, but it's not like Tommy has asked permission of every girl he kissed, or aimed for the perfect moment... but this feels something like that anyway, and it makes his pulse respond. Kick forward.
At least until she asks for the pipe.
Tommy nearly chokes on his exhale, laughs as he drops back down from how he was beginning to push off his elbows up toward Eddie's mouth as he hands her the pipe.] Cautious, that's good. Hope you're not speaking from experience.
[ It's sweet, him asking her permission. People have started treating her differently now that she's more well-known — Eddie and the Dead Girls are more than an indie band, now, that's a given, but it's not like they're selling out stadiums or anything, they're not famous-famous — but it's very rare for anyone to treat her with delicacy or sweetness. She doesn't really cultivate the image for it. And maybe, maybe if she got it all the time she'd get annoyed by it, but right now it's a novelty, and the look in Tommy's eyes has her own pulse ticking faster.
She's not even annoyed when he breaks for a moment, almost snorting a laugh as he hands her the pipe. She's laughing, too. ]
What? No, no way. I've definitely never set my bed on fire before, not even once. Or twice. [ She leans away for just a moment, just so she can stretch out and carefully place the pipe on the little nightstand by her bed, on top of a (clean) plate from a previous room-service order. ] Or three times.
[ Turning back to him, she wiggles a little on the bed, readjusting the way she's sitting to make it easier for her to reach out and twist her fingers in the front of his too-tight shirt to tug him up to her level. ] C'mere.
[Easier for her because Tommy was already moving. Already crawling forward off the chair and toward the bed as Eddie stretched out, all long pale flesh and dark ink, to follow through on his started joke. But he'd asked. And she'd answered.
And Tommy really wants to kiss her.
So there's no more joking, no more laughing - for now; Tommy is moving into Eddie's fingers even as she's grabbing for him, knee onto the bed in order to press his mouth to hers quickly enough to cut off the word on her lips.]
[ Eddie's other hand lifts to reach for Tommy's shoulder as he meets her half-way, surging up out of his chair and half-crawling onto the bed to kiss her, and she winds up sliding her arm around the back of his neck to keep him close as his lips press to hers even before she's finished talking.
This is Eddie's favorite way of being shut up, just for the record.
There's something in the eagerness in the way Tommy moves into her that sinks a hook under her sternum, yanking her off-kilter, and originally she'd just slipped her arm around his shoulders for somewhere to put it and so that he wouldn't get any bright ideas like pulling away, but it doesn't take long for her to grip the back of his shirt as well as the front, holding herself upright against him as much as she's holding him close to her. ]
[His arm wraps itself low around her waist with very little thought and the way the end up aligned, holding on to each other, that feels like a helluva lot more than implied chastity of 'Can I kiss you?' but to hell with it now. Eddie is warm and receptive and leaning in just as much as Tommy is and there ain't nothing bad about that.
He doesn't crush into the kiss but it's not - like the rest of him - in anyway shy or tentative. Tommy takes his time, though, he lets himself take his time. Explores the feel of her lips, the taste of her teeth, the way her back arches beneath the spread of his hand.]
[ It's difficult, making herself slow down. Eddie's always had what she calls a "Too Much Gene," where she can't convince herself not to greedily grab at the things she wants. Maybe it comes from her upbringing, maybe it's just a personality flaw, but she's always been the type of person to glut on something good when it's in front of her, just in case it gets taken away. Moderation has never been her strong suit.
It means she smokes too much, drinks too much, gets in fights too much. It also means, when a handsome man is leaning over her and licking into her mouth, she has to fight the urge to pull him back onto the bed with her, to haul his body overtop of hers so she can enjoy the way he presses her down and pins her to the mattress.
She didn't get to enjoy the feeling of Tommy sprawled on top of her earlier, a little preoccupied with the knock on her head and the crashing light behind them, and she wants to rectify that now.
But she makes herself slow down, forces her hand to unclench from the front of his shirt so she can smooth her palm up his chest to cup the back of his neck instead, the tips of her fingers tangling in the curls that are barely restrained by his hairtie. He kisses her with purpose, like he's mapping her out, and that focus is actually incredibly sexy, so she gives herself over to it and relaxes into his touch. ]
[Tommy has enough moderation for the both of them - but it's been imposed on him, something prone to crack under strain when there's no immediate consequences in sight. More of Eddie isn't a consequence... or at least not one that he's bothered by. He kisses her until they're both panting, finally resting a hand to the mattress to keep them from tipping backward and his forehead to hers.] I swear I did not follow you up here to sleep with you.
[Yeah, he's repeating himself. But he's high and it feels necessary.]
Uh huh. [ She doesn't disbelieve him, she's just having a hard time focusing right now. Her lips feel a little tingly, his facial hair is tickling her face, and his breath is a warm wash of air across her chin as he leans over her, his forehead pressed to hers. She's still clinging to his shoulders.
Maybe she should let him go?
But she doesn't want to. She tilts her chin to kiss him again, more briefly this time, her fingers curling and then spreading out across his back like a cat kneading a blanket. ] No, of course.
[Eddie's uninterested in his excuses. He gets it. He does; even though it takes his weed-soaked brain a moment to equate that with maybe she doesn't give a shit because she's interested. She's interested in him. Doesn't think he's a creep.
Okay. He can work with-] Ow.
[Her fingers hit a bandaid and the stitches beneath and his arm on the bed buckles, dropping them both back a foot before Tommy catches them, inches above the mattress, one arm still around her back and the other locking again to keep them up. Sort of. For a half-second - before Eddie drops down on the disheveled blankets and Tommy winds up propped up, hovering, overhead. He blinks down at her.] I'm gonna kiss you again.
[A warning, this time, instead of a question. And he does.]
[ Eddie's in the middle of mumbling an apology — she felt that bandage, too — when Tommy's arm buckles and he comes crashing into her, enough so that she yelps before he manages to catch them both, his arm around her back keeping her from bouncing back against the mattress. With the way he's holding her, she can feel the muscles in his arm press up against her, and it's stupidly sexy. She doesn't moan about it, but it's close.
She does finally travel the remaining few inches down to the mattress when he slips his arm out from behind her, a soft little grunt swallowed back when her head protests its new lump hitting the bed, but smoking has made any pain she feels a far-away thing, and what Tommy says to her next has her forgetting the urge to wince completely. ]
Yeah, that's— [ She licks her lips, her hands reaching up to grip at his sides instead, and she quickly tries to tug him closer even as she's lifting her chin to meet him halfway. ] Good.
Tommy likes Eddie; warm, receptive - he touches and she responds. Mouth, hands. Not that he's imagined this... honestly whatever school-boy crush he's had on the lead singer of Eddie and the Dead Girls pales in comparison to the reality of her. Eddie is alive in a way that Tommy's been missing outside holding a guitar in his hands in front of a crowd.
He doesn't ask anymore questions. When Eddie arches, he peels off her soft, worn shirt.
[ Eddie's only known Tommy for a few hours, but that doesn't seem to matter much to her at all. In her slightly more reckless youth, she's fucked people she's known only a few minutes, attractive strangers met in bars and clubs, and so far she's been incredibly lucky that nothing horrible has come of it.
Certainly nothing horrible can happen to her tonight. She's warm, she's a little high, and she's currently being undressed by someone who saved her life. He wouldn't have gone to all that trouble if he was going to be a fucking creep the second he takes her shirt off.
Actually, that's a great idea. She lets Tommy peel off her t-shirt and then immediately reaches for his, helping him struggle out of it before she has to stop to kiss him again. He can figure out his wet jeans, she's busy. Eventually, somehow, they manage to get the rest of their clothes off, one damp piece at a time, and then it's just miles of warm, tanned skin pressed against hers. She has a crystal clear image of her pale, inked legs wrapped around his waist as her fingers curl in his hair, Tommy's head bent over her chest, his fingers and his mouth working to make her gasp and writhe, and then the next moment she remembers with any clarity is him fumbling through her disaster of a room to find the condoms he'd tossed somewhere.
It all goes like that, really, moments in time so detailed that they feel like photographs, followed by a pleasurable haze where she can't really recall the specifics but she knows she feels good. That's what's important, after all, isn't it?
She even tells him that, at one point, how good she feels with her hands braced on his chest, rocking her hips down against his. She lets her mouth fall open and a torrent of semi-coherent bullshit spills free, expletives and praise alike as she gets more and more worked up, her damp hair hanging in her eyes and her mouth red and a little swollen from him kissing her and the way she keeps biting her lips to keep from making too much noise. ]
[Tommy hasn't been with a woman in a while, since before they came on the tour, but he's never been the type to be over-eager enough to skip past the good parts. He likes the build, the exploration of enjoyable things, and the weed has coated his nerves enough to make all of this possible despite the general biological imperative. The night feels like hazy miles of milky skin, tangled limbs, and Eddie's voice. By the time she crawls over his lap and his hands swallow her hips, Tommy's coherence is lost in the feeling of her and the rhythm they chase to the breaking point.
When the leading edge of a too-bright sunrise through the window pulls him from a dreamless sleep to announce that last night's storm - and the night itself - has passed on, Tommy greets it with pleasantly soft-edged memories of more drugs and ordering room-service that had been forgotten because he'd declared Eddie his own personal take-out spot before putting his face between her legs. He hadn't intended to stay the night; doesn't remember falling asleep, anyway, only laying with the sweat-sweet press of Eddie tangled up with him, unsure of beginnings and endings, murmuring back and forth Very Deep Theological Thoughts on Music, but when his eyes open it's morning and here he is - there she is, her hair a crazy tumble of dark curls across her pillow, cheeks slightly pink, and the single double-sized sheet doing a poor job of keeping them both decent.
It's too early to be awake but habit's a bitch. Tommy thinks about scooting closer, pulling Eddie against him, but doesn't. He hasn't had a morning-after since before enlisting and maybe this was just... a good night. A thing that's over now that the sun is shining on it. So instead he moves just enough to touch his nose to the warm skin of her shoulder and closes his eyes again.]
[ It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Eddie's the kind of woman who likes to laugh. She'd have had a good time tumbling Tommy in her hotel room bed even if he'd been focused and serious the entire time, would have very much enjoyed herself as she let him methodically work her over, but the moments of silliness he let shine through absolutely delighted her, especially when his jokes were bad or one of them said something stupid.
Which was not an infrequent occurrence. Eddie says stupid things all the time, it's part of her charm.
She'd been pleasantly worn-out by the time the night was through, a little less greened out than Tommy, maybe, but fully sated on food and quite a few enjoyable orgasms, and while she's never been good at sharing a bed, she'd passed out with his warm bulk beside her regardless and slept heavily through the night.
She is not a morning person. They hadn't pulled the curtains last night, far too busy doing other things, which means the hotel room fills with warm morning sunshine in almost no time at all, and Eddie finds herself groaning, twisting on the bed to hide her face away and pretend that the morning hasn't come just yet. The fact that she winds up with her face caught in dark, curly hair isn't unusual, but the fact that it's someone else's hair certainly is. Cracking open one eye, she looks down at the head nestled beside hers, clocks those freckles she's so fond of, and smiles. ]
And here I thought maybe you bein' a menace was just a Nighttime-Eddie sorta thing, [comes the pasty mutter from the man beside her. It's good-natured, but Tommy does have to pull his fingers free from where her twisting has pinned them between a hip and the mattress.
He rubs his knuckles with a thumb and then against his eyes as he rolls onto his back and blinks into the increased morning sun - he fell back asleep. Huh. Head falls to the side and he's greeted by Eddie, close enough to kiss. Tommy doesn't, but wants to.] Mornin'. [He checks his watch - seems to be the only thing that didn't come off last night; still early enough. Then he lets his hand keep moving, crossing over himself to brush a curl off her cheek and behind her ear.] Think there are cold burgers and fries still in the hallway if you're hungry. [One side of his mouth crawls into a grin. The ice cream is certainly a puddle by now.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:02 am (UTC)[He waves the insinuation away with his free hand before crossing his arms on the bed. The position pulls on the stitches but his nerves are pleasantly cosseted and for the moment he doesn't move.] Not a lot of girls. Got... [Control issues. He tongues the words in his mouth.] You know. Catholic upbringing. We're good boys. [Didn't hurt, anyway, having his role model end up in wedded not-bliss when he got his high school sweetheart knocked up. Without real thought, Tommy's eyes track to the box of condoms he'd thrown down on the dresser across the room.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:10 am (UTC)She firmly tells the smug little demon in the back of her mind to shut the hell up and stop crowing over the fact that it kind of sounds like Tommy's not the type of man to go out and pick up girls at bars (or music festivals) to fuck and then immediately forget. That's irrelevant.
It gets a little bit harder not to think about it when he bends closer, propping up his elbows on the bed beside her crossed knees. Her hand automatically finds its way to his shoulders without any conscious direction from her brain, and she finds herself carefully tracing the edges of his bandages through his shirt. ]
You know, when I was in high school, my shitty hometown was all convinced I was the leader of some kind of demonic cult hell-bent on seducing their corn-fed Indiana babies away from the light of the Lord? [ She gives him a crooked smile, twirling the end of one curl from his ponytail around her fingertip. ] A good Catholic boy like you oughta keep his distance.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:22 am (UTC)Tommy's head rocks forward, hanging slightly in response to the touch of Eddie's fingers on him.] Some might think so but I've seen enough that I can't really believe in that anymore. But maybe I want to, because you sing like someone pulled you off a cloud. Like maybe it all really exists if you can sing like you do.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:29 am (UTC)He lets his head fall down a little, leaning in closer to her, and she lets her fingertips play along the back of his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his borrowed shirt to touch his warm skin. ]
Tommy. [ God, he's sweet. How the hell is an Army vet, a fucking sniper, so sweet? She can believe he was raised Catholic, a true believer, that he never let himself go out and have too much of a wild youth, when he says shit like that to her. How the hell is she supposed to resist that? ] I'm hardly an angel, papi. Kind of the opposite, really.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 11:17 am (UTC)Four hours since I met you and you've gone out and done a set you could have begged off to for a field full of wet fans, helped break down a stage you didn't have to when your crew was short-staffed, offered comfort to some random stranger when he was in pain, and. [Tommy chuckles, moving just enough to tap the bottom of the pipe lightly against Eddie's shin as he looks up at her.] Shared your very good stash with that same pendejo. Don't sound to me like you got the devil in you, chica.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:31 pm (UTC)Sure wish you'd been around in Hawkins when everyone was convinced I was a Satanist and-or possessed. Coulda saved me a lot of trouble and heartache.
[ She's joking, obviously, to cover the squirmy feelings she's battling under her skin. Of course she did all that shit. How could she not? Those kids out there, the fans, they scrimped and saved to get tickets (or found a way to sneak in) specifically to see their favorite bands play. The crew work their asses off to make sure that the show's a success. Tommy's hardly a random stranger to her, not now. And she always shares her weed.
He tilts his head to look up at her, tapping the warm pipe against her leg, and Eddie watches her free hand lift from her lap so she can trail the tip of her finger down the bridge of his nose. ]
I love your freckles.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:10 pm (UTC)[He laughs at himself. It's funny, but true.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:15 pm (UTC)Yes you do!
[ His are much more pronounced than hers, dark and obvious and painfully charming. Eddie's are really only obvious when she's blushing, or when she's taken her makeup off like she has this evening, when her skin is bare and she's allowing herself to feel flattered by an attractive man making eyes at her.
It's fucking working. ]
So they're invisible, is that what you're saying?
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 08:06 pm (UTC)Can I kiss you? [It's out of his mouth, no attempt made to snatch it back.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 08:11 pm (UTC)She's feeling a little soft and hazy around the edges, her sharpness blurred by the weed and the fact that they've spent so much time together tonight and Tommy literally put himself between her and at least a very painful injury if not something more serious.
It means when he asks to kiss her, she doesn't turn it into some kind of joke, doesn't say something snarky or quippy in return, just brushes her thumb over his cheek and nods, a pleased little smile curling her lips. ]
Yeah. [ She'd like that a lot, actually. But then she adds: ] Give me the pipe, though, I don't want to accidentally set the bed on fire.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 01:40 am (UTC)He likes the softened edge to her answer, that lilt of a smile that doesn't try to be anything be pleased - some people would call him stupid, or naive, but it's not like Tommy has asked permission of every girl he kissed, or aimed for the perfect moment... but this feels something like that anyway, and it makes his pulse respond. Kick forward.
At least until she asks for the pipe.
Tommy nearly chokes on his exhale, laughs as he drops back down from how he was beginning to push off his elbows up toward Eddie's mouth as he hands her the pipe.] Cautious, that's good. Hope you're not speaking from experience.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 01:52 am (UTC)She's not even annoyed when he breaks for a moment, almost snorting a laugh as he hands her the pipe. She's laughing, too. ]
What? No, no way. I've definitely never set my bed on fire before, not even once. Or twice. [ She leans away for just a moment, just so she can stretch out and carefully place the pipe on the little nightstand by her bed, on top of a (clean) plate from a previous room-service order. ] Or three times.
[ Turning back to him, she wiggles a little on the bed, readjusting the way she's sitting to make it easier for her to reach out and twist her fingers in the front of his too-tight shirt to tug him up to her level. ] C'mere.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 02:09 am (UTC)And Tommy really wants to kiss her.
So there's no more joking, no more laughing - for now; Tommy is moving into Eddie's fingers even as she's grabbing for him, knee onto the bed in order to press his mouth to hers quickly enough to cut off the word on her lips.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 02:21 am (UTC)This is Eddie's favorite way of being shut up, just for the record.
There's something in the eagerness in the way Tommy moves into her that sinks a hook under her sternum, yanking her off-kilter, and originally she'd just slipped her arm around his shoulders for somewhere to put it and so that he wouldn't get any bright ideas like pulling away, but it doesn't take long for her to grip the back of his shirt as well as the front, holding herself upright against him as much as she's holding him close to her. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 01:53 pm (UTC)He doesn't crush into the kiss but it's not - like the rest of him - in anyway shy or tentative. Tommy takes his time, though, he lets himself take his time. Explores the feel of her lips, the taste of her teeth, the way her back arches beneath the spread of his hand.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 02:16 pm (UTC)It means she smokes too much, drinks too much, gets in fights too much. It also means, when a handsome man is leaning over her and licking into her mouth, she has to fight the urge to pull him back onto the bed with her, to haul his body overtop of hers so she can enjoy the way he presses her down and pins her to the mattress.
She didn't get to enjoy the feeling of Tommy sprawled on top of her earlier, a little preoccupied with the knock on her head and the crashing light behind them, and she wants to rectify that now.
But she makes herself slow down, forces her hand to unclench from the front of his shirt so she can smooth her palm up his chest to cup the back of his neck instead, the tips of her fingers tangling in the curls that are barely restrained by his hairtie. He kisses her with purpose, like he's mapping her out, and that focus is actually incredibly sexy, so she gives herself over to it and relaxes into his touch. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 11:16 pm (UTC)[Yeah, he's repeating himself. But he's high and it feels necessary.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-26 11:51 pm (UTC)Maybe she should let him go?
But she doesn't want to. She tilts her chin to kiss him again, more briefly this time, her fingers curling and then spreading out across his back like a cat kneading a blanket. ] No, of course.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 01:07 am (UTC)Okay. He can work with-] Ow.
[Her fingers hit a bandaid and the stitches beneath and his arm on the bed buckles, dropping them both back a foot before Tommy catches them, inches above the mattress, one arm still around her back and the other locking again to keep them up. Sort of. For a half-second - before Eddie drops down on the disheveled blankets and Tommy winds up propped up, hovering, overhead. He blinks down at her.] I'm gonna kiss you again.
[A warning, this time, instead of a question. And he does.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 01:14 am (UTC)She does finally travel the remaining few inches down to the mattress when he slips his arm out from behind her, a soft little grunt swallowed back when her head protests its new lump hitting the bed, but smoking has made any pain she feels a far-away thing, and what Tommy says to her next has her forgetting the urge to wince completely. ]
Yeah, that's— [ She licks her lips, her hands reaching up to grip at his sides instead, and she quickly tries to tug him closer even as she's lifting her chin to meet him halfway. ] Good.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 01:31 am (UTC)Tommy likes Eddie; warm, receptive - he touches and she responds. Mouth, hands. Not that he's imagined this... honestly whatever school-boy crush he's had on the lead singer of Eddie and the Dead Girls pales in comparison to the reality of her. Eddie is alive in a way that Tommy's been missing outside holding a guitar in his hands in front of a crowd.
He doesn't ask anymore questions. When Eddie arches, he peels off her soft, worn shirt.
His own wet pants are harder to climb out of.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 01:54 am (UTC)Certainly nothing horrible can happen to her tonight. She's warm, she's a little high, and she's currently being undressed by someone who saved her life. He wouldn't have gone to all that trouble if he was going to be a fucking creep the second he takes her shirt off.
Actually, that's a great idea. She lets Tommy peel off her t-shirt and then immediately reaches for his, helping him struggle out of it before she has to stop to kiss him again. He can figure out his wet jeans, she's busy. Eventually, somehow, they manage to get the rest of their clothes off, one damp piece at a time, and then it's just miles of warm, tanned skin pressed against hers. She has a crystal clear image of her pale, inked legs wrapped around his waist as her fingers curl in his hair, Tommy's head bent over her chest, his fingers and his mouth working to make her gasp and writhe, and then the next moment she remembers with any clarity is him fumbling through her disaster of a room to find the condoms he'd tossed somewhere.
It all goes like that, really, moments in time so detailed that they feel like photographs, followed by a pleasurable haze where she can't really recall the specifics but she knows she feels good. That's what's important, after all, isn't it?
She even tells him that, at one point, how good she feels with her hands braced on his chest, rocking her hips down against his. She lets her mouth fall open and a torrent of semi-coherent bullshit spills free, expletives and praise alike as she gets more and more worked up, her damp hair hanging in her eyes and her mouth red and a little swollen from him kissing her and the way she keeps biting her lips to keep from making too much noise. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 02:09 pm (UTC)When the leading edge of a too-bright sunrise through the window pulls him from a dreamless sleep to announce that last night's storm - and the night itself - has passed on, Tommy greets it with pleasantly soft-edged memories of more drugs and ordering room-service that had been forgotten because he'd declared Eddie his own personal take-out spot before putting his face between her legs. He hadn't intended to stay the night; doesn't remember falling asleep, anyway, only laying with the sweat-sweet press of Eddie tangled up with him, unsure of beginnings and endings, murmuring back and forth Very Deep Theological Thoughts on Music, but when his eyes open it's morning and here he is - there she is, her hair a crazy tumble of dark curls across her pillow, cheeks slightly pink, and the single double-sized sheet doing a poor job of keeping them both decent.
It's too early to be awake but habit's a bitch. Tommy thinks about scooting closer, pulling Eddie against him, but doesn't. He hasn't had a morning-after since before enlisting and maybe this was just... a good night. A thing that's over now that the sun is shining on it. So instead he moves just enough to touch his nose to the warm skin of her shoulder and closes his eyes again.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 02:43 pm (UTC)Which was not an infrequent occurrence. Eddie says stupid things all the time, it's part of her charm.
She'd been pleasantly worn-out by the time the night was through, a little less greened out than Tommy, maybe, but fully sated on food and quite a few enjoyable orgasms, and while she's never been good at sharing a bed, she'd passed out with his warm bulk beside her regardless and slept heavily through the night.
She is not a morning person. They hadn't pulled the curtains last night, far too busy doing other things, which means the hotel room fills with warm morning sunshine in almost no time at all, and Eddie finds herself groaning, twisting on the bed to hide her face away and pretend that the morning hasn't come just yet. The fact that she winds up with her face caught in dark, curly hair isn't unusual, but the fact that it's someone else's hair certainly is. Cracking open one eye, she looks down at the head nestled beside hers, clocks those freckles she's so fond of, and smiles. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-27 03:00 pm (UTC)He rubs his knuckles with a thumb and then against his eyes as he rolls onto his back and blinks into the increased morning sun - he fell back asleep. Huh. Head falls to the side and he's greeted by Eddie, close enough to kiss. Tommy doesn't, but wants to.] Mornin'. [He checks his watch - seems to be the only thing that didn't come off last night; still early enough. Then he lets his hand keep moving, crossing over himself to brush a curl off her cheek and behind her ear.] Think there are cold burgers and fries still in the hallway if you're hungry. [One side of his mouth crawls into a grin. The ice cream is certainly a puddle by now.]
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: