[ a quietly surprised "what--" slips out of julie when eddie picks her up, turns into a laugh when her back's on the ground — short, breathy, fond. she's not really one to let someone just pick her up and move her, not without significant input on her part, but julie's so astonished by eddie having the balls to just do it that she's not even mad about it. ]
[ though she does nip at his bottom lip again when eddie's back in kissing range, harder this time, just as a way of telling him off. ]
[ that aside though, julie has few complaints, the list getting significantly shorter when she shimmies a little to get comfortable on the ground, hitches the thigh without a hand on it up at eddie's hip. gets about as far with 'getting comfortable' as unzipping her hoodie before she decides a better place for her hands is sliding them under eddie's shirt, around his sides and up his back. palms flat and fingers splayed out over his skin like she's trying to touch as much of him as possible. ]
[ the sharp nip at his lip stings a little, but eddie likes it, as evidenced by the low, pleased little laugh that he hides in her mouth. he feels... obsessed, and in some corner of his mind he knows that's dangerous, but between hawkins and here, eddie's life feels like it's been one giant risk for who knows how long anymore - so what's one more?
but his thoughts are elsewhere. on julie, and the metallic buzz of a zipper as she opens up her hoodie, the solid, warm weight of her thigh up over his hip, the slide of her palms under his shirt—
it's very brief, very blink-and-you'll-miss it, but there's a quick moment in which eddie pauses. he doesn't flinch or pull away, but his inhales sharpens a little and the hand on her thigh stills just for that one tick of a second when her hands splay over his sides, drift over the spread of welted scar tissue mapped across his torso. eddie's not terribly insecure about his body and the way it looks now, after the number the demobats did to him, but he knows it's ugly. he knows no one else knows about it, except maybe harrington. maybe buckley, too.
but it's fine. the moment is fleeting, and eddie pushes forward, sinks a little closer to julie, slides the hand on her thigh further up, his thumb following along the inseam of her jeans. he buries his face against the side of her neck, finds her pulse with his mouth and presses the flat of his tongue over it like he can measure her heartbeat that way, the way he's thought about doing too many times before now.
when he runs out of thigh and can go no higher, eddie turns his hand, presses three of his fingers between her legs and moves them slowly, just once, rubbing her over her jeans. ]
[ of course she's seen the hint of scars every now and then — peeking out from his collar, under his shirt — but it's not like julie's ever been in a position to investigate. just kind of assumed that he ate shit a couple of times because it's eddie, of course he would. but the scarring is way more extensive than she would've imagined and her fingers travel up the edges of what she can feel of it, following the bumps and jagged edges around to his side. her other hand finding its place between his shoulders. ]
[ she wonders what happened, wonders if it's even okay to ask, but doesn't exactly have much mental real estate to spare to that consideration right now. ]
[ she turns her head, looking for him, but stops with another hitched breath at his mouth on her neck, tilting her head a little to encourage him. gasps softly at the press of his fingers and bites her lip, spreading her legs just a little more for him and rolls her hips down against his hand in response. ]
[ in between that tiny little gasp and the way julie parts her legs a little more to make room for him, it's absolutely wild that eddie has even a shred of decency left in him - but that's just eddie, and as much as he would like to get julie off in the middle of the fucking woods, even he's smart enough to know that there are safer places. julie might be an expert at what she does, she might be fast an always armed, but second to screwing around in another killer's territory, the woods are probably one of the most dangerous places to be caught off your guard.
and, you know. julie kinda deserves better than a forest floor.
so just short of biting a mark into the side of her throat, eddie withdraws only far enough to pant a hot, quiet breath against her neck, his fingers firm where they're still between her legs, encouraging her to keep grinding. ]
Is, uh - [ he kisses his way up the side of her neck, gently scrapes his teeth against the skin just below her ear, and when he speaks, his voice is low and quiet and gravelly at the edges. ] S'anyone at the lodge?
[ it's a good thing eddie says something, especially if the way one of julie's hands finds its way to his waistband is anything to judge by, thumb pressed to the button on his jeans like she's looking for the right angle to pop them open. she's obviously not thinking about what a poor decision it is to get up to this on the ground in the woods. ]
[ she keeps her hips pressed to his fingers, bites her lip on a quiet moan that wants to slip out and lets it taper into a shaky breath at the way he scrapes his teeth over her skin. immediately encouraging in the way she tilts her head that little bit more for him. ]
[ it takes her a second to parse the question, and when she does her voice is coarse, a little husky. ]
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[ though she does nip at his bottom lip again when eddie's back in kissing range, harder this time, just as a way of telling him off. ]
[ that aside though, julie has few complaints, the list getting significantly shorter when she shimmies a little to get comfortable on the ground, hitches the thigh without a hand on it up at eddie's hip. gets about as far with 'getting comfortable' as unzipping her hoodie before she decides a better place for her hands is sliding them under eddie's shirt, around his sides and up his back. palms flat and fingers splayed out over his skin like she's trying to touch as much of him as possible. ]
no subject
but his thoughts are elsewhere. on julie, and the metallic buzz of a zipper as she opens up her hoodie, the solid, warm weight of her thigh up over his hip, the slide of her palms under his shirt—
it's very brief, very blink-and-you'll-miss it, but there's a quick moment in which eddie pauses. he doesn't flinch or pull away, but his inhales sharpens a little and the hand on her thigh stills just for that one tick of a second when her hands splay over his sides, drift over the spread of welted scar tissue mapped across his torso. eddie's not terribly insecure about his body and the way it looks now, after the number the demobats did to him, but he knows it's ugly. he knows no one else knows about it, except maybe harrington. maybe buckley, too.
but it's fine. the moment is fleeting, and eddie pushes forward, sinks a little closer to julie, slides the hand on her thigh further up, his thumb following along the inseam of her jeans. he buries his face against the side of her neck, finds her pulse with his mouth and presses the flat of his tongue over it like he can measure her heartbeat that way, the way he's thought about doing too many times before now.
when he runs out of thigh and can go no higher, eddie turns his hand, presses three of his fingers between her legs and moves them slowly, just once, rubbing her over her jeans. ]
no subject
[ she wonders what happened, wonders if it's even okay to ask, but doesn't exactly have much mental real estate to spare to that consideration right now. ]
[ she turns her head, looking for him, but stops with another hitched breath at his mouth on her neck, tilting her head a little to encourage him. gasps softly at the press of his fingers and bites her lip, spreading her legs just a little more for him and rolls her hips down against his hand in response. ]
no subject
and, you know. julie kinda deserves better than a forest floor.
so just short of biting a mark into the side of her throat, eddie withdraws only far enough to pant a hot, quiet breath against her neck, his fingers firm where they're still between her legs, encouraging her to keep grinding. ]
Is, uh - [ he kisses his way up the side of her neck, gently scrapes his teeth against the skin just below her ear, and when he speaks, his voice is low and quiet and gravelly at the edges. ] S'anyone at the lodge?
no subject
[ she keeps her hips pressed to his fingers, bites her lip on a quiet moan that wants to slip out and lets it taper into a shaky breath at the way he scrapes his teeth over her skin. immediately encouraging in the way she tilts her head that little bit more for him. ]
[ it takes her a second to parse the question, and when she does her voice is coarse, a little husky. ]
I-- I don't think so.