( quick and sharp like he's offended by that. )no.
hop, i'm not safe. ( not anymore. was he ever? he'd tried so fucking hard not to be his dad, not to be worse. this is worse. maybe. then again he's the son of a man who didn't care about the collateral, it's in his blood. )i'm-- i won't be long.
i'm-- i'm outside. i'll come in but don't ask me to do that. please, h--daddy. don't ask me that. anything else but not that. please? daddy? ( he's pacing now, wearing away the snow beneath his feet. )
[there's no answer, except a faint creaking from inside the cabin. Jim opens the door dressed in his thermals. the backlight paints him orange, and he braces himself against the door, says: ] Get in.
[reaches out, even, to try and catch Eddie by the arm. ]
eddie can do that, that's easy. he doesn't even fight when jim catches his arm and pulls him in. he's in pants and a knit sweater, boots too but the outfit looks like something appropriate for the warmest point of the day and not night.
he's paler than he normally gets when he's starting to transform, looks wilder. ) I'll stay out of your hair.
( he lingers in jim's space anyway, like a moth buzzing in his face and searching for the light. )
[he's getting better at this: the easy intimacy of pulling Eddie in, of pressing Eddie's face to his chest, resting a palm on the back of his head. something is off, some unsaid, private thing that Eddie doesn't want to share.
he can try later. for now, he murmurs: ] Tell me what you need. Use your words.
( the sound eddie makes sure sounds like a whimper, followed by a sharp inhale like he's trying not to cry. he's never been good at stopping himself when it starts, even though he's usually hiding alone when it happens. eddie holds the crying, soothes the aches, doesn't let that happen to him.
he'd threaten jim not to tell anyone but he doesn't think the man will. not when he promised to keep eddie safe. he leans into jim's chest, inhales the comforting scent of him; sweat, wood, and the beer on his breath.
eddie doesn't know what he wants. that's why he's here. ) I don't want to think right now.
[he waits, let's Eddie get a breath, let's him think, let's him take a beat. he can do that, though. he can switch Eddie off, take as long to do it as Eddie needs. he kisses the top of Eddie's head, takes his face in both hands and says: ] Okay.
[he kisses his forehead next, thinks, privately, that Eddie looks like he needs it. ] I'm gonna go grab some stuff from the bedroom. Strip, wait for me by the fire.
Yeah, okay. ( eddie leans into him anyway, then when jim steps back he wraps his arms around himself and tilts his head.
he wanders what jim has in the bedroom, what he's getting. eddie hasn't seen anything new in the times he's weasled his way in since the morning with house. he would normally ask, would make a quip about presents all for him but he doesn't have the energy for it. ) I'll wait.
[He says this gently too. Nods towards the fire, and then makes his way to the back of the cabin. In the bedroom, he grabs one of the firmer, heartier pillows. He grabs the oils he's been using for lube, and then grabs the heavier blanket after a second thought.
He doesn't strip himself. Not yet, anyway. He's thinking on the cuff, thinks he doesn't need to be bare in order to set Eddie's head straight. Not for a long while yet. Half way back down the hall, he calls: ] You ready, baby?
(baby. eddie shudders, looking up from where he’s kneeling by the fire down the small space between the living room and the bedroom. ) I’m ready, Daddy.
( he sounds more like himself now, even if he doesn’t feel it. he’s naked, clothes left on a nearby stool and his hairs pulled up and tied with a ribbon into a high bun. hopper didn’t ask, can undo it if he wants. it’ll make hiding harder. he feels nervous suddenly, licks his lips. he doesn’t know what’s coming and that’s part of the thrill but eddie’s so bad with surprises. )
[He takes a second to appreciate Eddie: kneeling like he's been told, hair, tied up. He sets the oil down on the fire place, places his large palm over Eddie's crown, draws his head to his thigh. His thumb strokes over his head, hopes it soothing. Hopes it's not too much, too soon.
The pillow gets placed on the floor, along with the blanket. He crouches down, first to press his mouth against Eddie's forehead, because it feels right. Second to drape the blanket over the pillow. Makes a little nest, like a dog bed. Next he drags the chair closer, grabs the oils and sits his ass down. He considers Eddie for a long, long second, then murmurs: ] Come over here. On your knees, head on my thigh. Let me look at you.
( eddie leans into jim's space when he touches him, hand on his crown. eddie's not exactly small, but he feels like he is underneath jim's palm, feels safe in a way he can't place. grounded, too. it's the right thing at the moment, and he wonders how hopper knows it's what he needs, why the touch is so fucking good. objectively, he knows that touch is good for people. that's why eddie's always touching, always leaning in to people's spaces. it just--- applying it to himself takes a moment.
he's thinking too much, misses what jim's doing with the pillow and blanket. doesn't miss the instructions, though, even if he can't quite guess what jim's going to do. that's probably better; he'd asked to not think.
eddie crawls between jim's thighs, feels himself flush doing it but maybe that's ianthe's blood in his system. he settles between spread legs, presses his cheek to jim's thigh and looks up at him, doe-eyed. ) Like this?
[There's still an ugly curl of shame when his dick twitches. It's small, but it's there when he settles his palm over Eddie's head, petting down his hair. He murmurs: ] Yeah, that's it. Good boy. [and it doesn't leave. He doesn't think it'll ever leave; thinks that the wrongness of this, of wanting Eddie Munson, of wanting Billy Hargrove, will never truly go. Maybe it shouldn't.
But he can ignore it. He can ignore it because Eddie needs him. ] Tell me what you think you need, baby.
[Jim thinks he might need something sharp. Might need something that stings, something that he can soothe after. ]
I already told you. ( he says it, brows creased and a little frustrated. his brain's still stuck on the way 'good boy' is bouncing around like it'll wipe out the feeling of filth and panic crawling underneath his skin. he turns his face into jim's thigh, takes a deep breath in before he's looking back up at the older man. the thing is, if he thinks about it, what he needs is complicated. it's this thing in eddie's chest he can't voice, can't explain. )
I think-- ( he's usually so good at saying things, at letting them spill out of him without much thought. this is harder. ) Need you to be rough. Need it to hurt before it feels good. I haven't been good. I don't know if I--- If I wanna get off.
( he stumbles over that one even though he's whispered filth about railing jim's cunt into his ear, pressings the older man's face into his own bed and wishing he had more hair to pull. this feels fucking different. ) Whatever you want.
[He doesn't press on I haven't been good quite yet. He thinks he might not until Eddie's pliant, fucked out stupid. He says: ] I don't feel like using you today, baby. Not like that, anyway.
[But - he can work with this. He strokes Eddie's hair real gentle, pretends to mull it over, like he hasn't got an idea half-formed already. Eventually, he says:] Okay. Get up here, on my lap. Back to me.
[He coaxes him up by the hair, if he has to. Waits till Eddie's got his ass pressed back onto him, until he's close enough for Jim to move the length of his hair aside and press a kiss to Eddie's shoulder. He hands hold firm onto his hips. ] You see the pillow and blanket? You're gonna bend down and get comfortable on them, okay? Keep you ass up here for him, I'll keep hold.
( there’s a tinge of suspicion in eddie’s eyes, narrowed slightly like part of him doesn’t get it. ) How then?
( but jim’s already talking by then, guiding him with a firm grip in his hair because eddie’s not sure what he wants and the usual showmanship slips when he can’t see a step ahead. he’s in his lap first, facing the fire with legs spread over wide thighs. it’s vulnerable like this and eddie shudders when he feels jim’s lips brush against his shoulders, close to the scar from billy’s teeth. ) Huh…
( he’s still lost as he does it, trusts hopper will give him what he needs and wants as he settles not quite upside down with his forearm on the pillow. he’s gotten enough upper body strength from working in the greenhouse and the cabin to hold himself up, has more defined muscles underneath the scarred skin of his chest and back too. he lowers down anyway, arms crossed as he holds the pillow to his chest before he looks over his shoulder and up at jim for approval. )
[That's a gorgeous sight. There's so much of Eddie that Jim rarely focuses on; like this, though? He can see most of it. The scars; the pale expanse of his back, the way his newly formed muscles bunch and swell. Distractedly, he traces over a scar on Eddie's side; keeps him in place with arm securely wrapped around him, but eventually slides forward, guides Eddie to hook his ankles at Jim's back.
When he's sure he's not going to slip off onto his face, he massages both ass cheeks with his palms. Murmurs: ] There we go, good boy.
[The first smack is light. It's a tease of sensation. It's mostly to see the flesh of Eddie's ass ripple. He busies himself after by spreading Eddie's cheeks and spitting down, directly onto his hole. busies himself after that with reaching for the oil, with dragging his thumb over the spit, pressing down against the rim, never penetrating. ] You'll tell me if you need me to stop. That's not a request. Say you understand, Eddie.
( the touch to his scar makes him shudder; that particular spot a weird mix of pain and something sweeter. he's getting his wires crossed everywhere, doesn't think whatever he's asked for and jim's going to give him will help. then again, it's only fair. eddie likes to watch when someone moans under the strike of his hand.
he hooks his ankles when he's moved, crosses them and groans a little. he wants to quip that he's not athletic enough for this but really he's being held up by strong thighs and that 'good boy' distracts him enough.
the first smack makes him gasps; it's too light but it's the sensation of spit he focuses on, that's what has him flushing red and squirming a little; not much, he can't get leverage to really push back against jim's thumb until he gets back on his forearms. swallowing, he nods his head even as he misbehaves. ) I understand, Daddy. I'll use my safe-word.
Good boy. [Sweet boy, even trying to push back. The thumb disappears to give Eddie another firmer smack. The crack is louder, leaves the skin a little redder. He drives down with another to the other cheek, grips it tight after as he pulls it aside, tipping oil down onto Eddie's crack.
The flesh bounces back when Jim lets go to slick his fingers up real good. He's fascinated by it, pulls the other aside with his dryer hand and watches the way the flesh bunches, the way Eddie shudders under him when he teases his hole with his middle finger, tip pressing in slow, slow, slow down to the first knuckle. Under Eddie, his own dick fattens, and probably, if he pressed Eddie down, pulled him further back, they'd be lined up nice. It's a thought for later, though.
For now, he pushes down to the second knuckle and let's Eddie's cheek bounce back again. He brings his other palm down with a crack; starts fucking slow, lazy, while he cracks back down on the other cheek. ]
( he should expect that one but doesn't, yelps because that smack actually stings. it's nothing like that time in the boarding house, not as rough, but the gentleness of it all makes his skin feel like it's on fire all the same.
maybe it's that eddie's not in control that does it; he's tried to be in control of his whole life, of everything for the last few years that it feels so foreign to go back to letting things happen; to feeling out of control. but the thing is, the terrifying thing is, that he trusts jim. he feels vulnerable but not terrified of being out of control, not now. maybe that'll change but not yet. that's why he's here, that's why he's not scrambling away.
the intrusion makes his thigh shake but it's not enough, is too gentle. ) Ji-- Daddy. More.
( he regrets that a moment later when jim brings his hand down again against his skin. he groans, drops his head into the nest beneath him and it's not long before he's panting and biting down on the blanket to keep the sounds that want to break out of his throat quiet. the finger inside of him is too slow, the cracks of the hand surprisingly quick. he's hard embarrassingly fast, cock jerking in the air beneath him and slapping against his own stomach; it's not enough. ) Daddy. Touch me.
( he wants to reach for his own dick, wants to stroke it hard and fast. he bites down into his own forearm instead; he wants to be good. )
I am touching you baby. [The slow, leisurely fuck of his finger; the infrequent crack against the meat of Eddie's ass. He fucks him like they've got all the time in the world, like he always does. He fucks him just like that for a long while, adds a second finger the same he cracks down a little meaner.
The next spank he means to sting; he balances it with a quicker fuck of his fingers, drives them in hard, fast; matches it with a slap to each cheek twice. He wets his own lips, says, voice sickeningly sweet: ] Is this what you meant, baby? Is daddy touching you right?
( it sounds obscene, feels it too. eddie's eyes start to burn before jim adds the second finger, before his hand comes down harder. his ass is red already, each slap makes him jump and his thighs clench. this time there's no friction beneath him, he's not lost in pleasure coming from his dick.
when jim speaks, that sweet and syrupy question, eddie's got the blanket in his mouth and looks over his shoulder at daddy with tears in his eyes. he shakes his head. no, it's not right. it's not what he wants. )
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hop, i'm not safe. ( not anymore. was he ever? he'd tried so fucking hard not to be his dad, not to be worse. this is worse. maybe. then again he's the son of a man who didn't care about the collateral, it's in his blood. ) i'm-- i won't be long.
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Eddie - baby, tell me what's wrong.
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i'm-- i'm outside. i'll come in but don't ask me to do that. please, h--daddy. don't ask me that. anything else but not that. please? daddy? ( he's pacing now, wearing away the snow beneath his feet. )
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[reaches out, even, to try and catch Eddie by the arm. ]
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eddie can do that, that's easy. he doesn't even fight when jim catches his arm and pulls him in. he's in pants and a knit sweater, boots too but the outfit looks like something appropriate for the warmest point of the day and not night.
he's paler than he normally gets when he's starting to transform, looks wilder. ) I'll stay out of your hair.
( he lingers in jim's space anyway, like a moth buzzing in his face and searching for the light. )
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[he's getting better at this: the easy intimacy of pulling Eddie in, of pressing Eddie's face to his chest, resting a palm on the back of his head. something is off, some unsaid, private thing that Eddie doesn't want to share.
he can try later. for now, he murmurs: ] Tell me what you need. Use your words.
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he'd threaten jim not to tell anyone but he doesn't think the man will. not when he promised to keep eddie safe. he leans into jim's chest, inhales the comforting scent of him; sweat, wood, and the beer on his breath.
eddie doesn't know what he wants. that's why he's here. ) I don't want to think right now.
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[he kisses his forehead next, thinks, privately, that Eddie looks like he needs it. ] I'm gonna go grab some stuff from the bedroom. Strip, wait for me by the fire.
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he wanders what jim has in the bedroom, what he's getting. eddie hasn't seen anything new in the times he's weasled his way in since the morning with house. he would normally ask, would make a quip about presents all for him but he doesn't have the energy for it. ) I'll wait.
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You’ll wait for who? [Okay, who? He’s keeping his voice carefully light, not too stern. Nothing too abrasive. ]
cw: gore
jim is being so gentle. eddie could probably rip his arm off right now but— ) I’ll wait for you, Daddy.
( something in his chest loosens, he hiccups. )
I want to be good, Daddy. ( he wants some sort of messed absolution that doesn’t make sense. )
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[He says this gently too. Nods towards the fire, and then makes his way to the back of the cabin. In the bedroom, he grabs one of the firmer, heartier pillows. He grabs the oils he's been using for lube, and then grabs the heavier blanket after a second thought.
He doesn't strip himself. Not yet, anyway. He's thinking on the cuff, thinks he doesn't need to be bare in order to set Eddie's head straight. Not for a long while yet. Half way back down the hall, he calls: ] You ready, baby?
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( he sounds more like himself now, even if he doesn’t feel it. he’s naked, clothes left on a nearby stool and his hairs pulled up and tied with a ribbon into a high bun. hopper didn’t ask, can undo it if he wants. it’ll make hiding harder. he feels nervous suddenly, licks his lips. he doesn’t know what’s coming and that’s part of the thrill but eddie’s so bad with surprises. )
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The pillow gets placed on the floor, along with the blanket. He crouches down, first to press his mouth against Eddie's forehead, because it feels right. Second to drape the blanket over the pillow. Makes a little nest, like a dog bed. Next he drags the chair closer, grabs the oils and sits his ass down. He considers Eddie for a long, long second, then murmurs: ] Come over here. On your knees, head on my thigh. Let me look at you.
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he's thinking too much, misses what jim's doing with the pillow and blanket. doesn't miss the instructions, though, even if he can't quite guess what jim's going to do. that's probably better; he'd asked to not think.
eddie crawls between jim's thighs, feels himself flush doing it but maybe that's ianthe's blood in his system. he settles between spread legs, presses his cheek to jim's thigh and looks up at him, doe-eyed. ) Like this?
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But he can ignore it. He can ignore it because Eddie needs him. ] Tell me what you think you need, baby.
[Jim thinks he might need something sharp. Might need something that stings, something that he can soothe after. ]
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I think-- ( he's usually so good at saying things, at letting them spill out of him without much thought. this is harder. ) Need you to be rough. Need it to hurt before it feels good. I haven't been good. I don't know if I--- If I wanna get off.
( he stumbles over that one even though he's whispered filth about railing jim's cunt into his ear, pressings the older man's face into his own bed and wishing he had more hair to pull. this feels fucking different. ) Whatever you want.
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[But - he can work with this. He strokes Eddie's hair real gentle, pretends to mull it over, like he hasn't got an idea half-formed already. Eventually, he says:] Okay. Get up here, on my lap. Back to me.
[He coaxes him up by the hair, if he has to. Waits till Eddie's got his ass pressed back onto him, until he's close enough for Jim to move the length of his hair aside and press a kiss to Eddie's shoulder. He hands hold firm onto his hips. ] You see the pillow and blanket? You're gonna bend down and get comfortable on them, okay? Keep you ass up here for him, I'll keep hold.
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( but jim’s already talking by then, guiding him with a firm grip in his hair because eddie’s not sure what he wants and the usual showmanship slips when he can’t see a step ahead. he’s in his lap first, facing the fire with legs spread over wide thighs. it’s vulnerable like this and eddie shudders when he feels jim’s lips brush against his shoulders, close to the scar from billy’s teeth. ) Huh…
( he’s still lost as he does it, trusts hopper will give him what he needs and wants as he settles not quite upside down with his forearm on the pillow. he’s gotten enough upper body strength from working in the greenhouse and the cabin to hold himself up, has more defined muscles underneath the scarred skin of his chest and back too. he lowers down anyway, arms crossed as he holds the pillow to his chest before he looks over his shoulder and up at jim for approval. )
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When he's sure he's not going to slip off onto his face, he massages both ass cheeks with his palms. Murmurs: ] There we go, good boy.
[The first smack is light. It's a tease of sensation. It's mostly to see the flesh of Eddie's ass ripple. He busies himself after by spreading Eddie's cheeks and spitting down, directly onto his hole. busies himself after that with reaching for the oil, with dragging his thumb over the spit, pressing down against the rim, never penetrating. ] You'll tell me if you need me to stop. That's not a request. Say you understand, Eddie.
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he hooks his ankles when he's moved, crosses them and groans a little. he wants to quip that he's not athletic enough for this but really he's being held up by strong thighs and that 'good boy' distracts him enough.
the first smack makes him gasps; it's too light but it's the sensation of spit he focuses on, that's what has him flushing red and squirming a little; not much, he can't get leverage to really push back against jim's thumb until he gets back on his forearms. swallowing, he nods his head even as he misbehaves. ) I understand, Daddy. I'll use my safe-word.
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The flesh bounces back when Jim lets go to slick his fingers up real good. He's fascinated by it, pulls the other aside with his dryer hand and watches the way the flesh bunches, the way Eddie shudders under him when he teases his hole with his middle finger, tip pressing in slow, slow, slow down to the first knuckle. Under Eddie, his own dick fattens, and probably, if he pressed Eddie down, pulled him further back, they'd be lined up nice. It's a thought for later, though.
For now, he pushes down to the second knuckle and let's Eddie's cheek bounce back again. He brings his other palm down with a crack; starts fucking slow, lazy, while he cracks back down on the other cheek. ]
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maybe it's that eddie's not in control that does it; he's tried to be in control of his whole life, of everything for the last few years that it feels so foreign to go back to letting things happen; to feeling out of control. but the thing is, the terrifying thing is, that he trusts jim. he feels vulnerable but not terrified of being out of control, not now. maybe that'll change but not yet. that's why he's here, that's why he's not scrambling away.
the intrusion makes his thigh shake but it's not enough, is too gentle. ) Ji-- Daddy. More.
( he regrets that a moment later when jim brings his hand down again against his skin. he groans, drops his head into the nest beneath him and it's not long before he's panting and biting down on the blanket to keep the sounds that want to break out of his throat quiet. the finger inside of him is too slow, the cracks of the hand surprisingly quick. he's hard embarrassingly fast, cock jerking in the air beneath him and slapping against his own stomach; it's not enough. ) Daddy. Touch me.
( he wants to reach for his own dick, wants to stroke it hard and fast. he bites down into his own forearm instead; he wants to be good. )
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The next spank he means to sting; he balances it with a quicker fuck of his fingers, drives them in hard, fast; matches it with a slap to each cheek twice. He wets his own lips, says, voice sickeningly sweet: ] Is this what you meant, baby? Is daddy touching you right?
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when jim speaks, that sweet and syrupy question, eddie's got the blanket in his mouth and looks over his shoulder at daddy with tears in his eyes. he shakes his head. no, it's not right. it's not what he wants. )
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cw: bad takes on sex workers
cw: some internal feminisation thoughts
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