You can take your becoming language and fuck yourself with it.
(Eddie juts his tongue out at Richie, but he doesn't keep it out for long. There's work to be done and he wanted to take care with Richie's hands. Even if it was only just a few lousy wooden splinters. God could only know the kind of diseases that lurked about Deerington and the small things that could jump start them. No way was he about to take any risks.
Least of all with Richie Tozier.
He bites at the inside of his own cheek when he hears that soft hiss of pain. Wants to apologize, but knows it's one of those necessary acts of cruel kindness. It would be over soon in any case.
Eddie grins in satisfaction when Richie confirmed that he'd gotten all of them out. The tweezers get set aside, and he fixes his glasses, a prickle of heat rising up into his cheeks. It was a moment of shyness because it was another thing to tell Richie about himself.)
I kind of have. Here, I mean. I'm uh-. A part time medic over at F.E.A.R's headquarters. It's a whole thing. It's not a big deal. I just help around sometimes.
(Eddie rushes through this explanation, having no interest in making it seem like he did anything special. Anything important. He slips the tweezers back into his fanny pack and grabs for Richie's hands again.)
This will feel better.
(And sanitize. Eddie shakes the can of dermoplast and sprays it over both of Richie's hands. The can gets dropped a second later, and Eddie leans in close to Richie's hands to blow over them to help the stuff dry a bit faster.)
There. (Eddie sits up straight, smiling in a satisfied sort of way. He's still holding the backs of Richie's hands, just kinda not thinking to take them away.)
no subject
(Eddie juts his tongue out at Richie, but he doesn't keep it out for long. There's work to be done and he wanted to take care with Richie's hands. Even if it was only just a few lousy wooden splinters. God could only know the kind of diseases that lurked about Deerington and the small things that could jump start them. No way was he about to take any risks.
Least of all with Richie Tozier.
He bites at the inside of his own cheek when he hears that soft hiss of pain. Wants to apologize, but knows it's one of those necessary acts of cruel kindness. It would be over soon in any case.
Eddie grins in satisfaction when Richie confirmed that he'd gotten all of them out. The tweezers get set aside, and he fixes his glasses, a prickle of heat rising up into his cheeks. It was a moment of shyness because it was another thing to tell Richie about himself.)
I kind of have. Here, I mean. I'm uh-. A part time medic over at F.E.A.R's headquarters. It's a whole thing. It's not a big deal. I just help around sometimes.
(Eddie rushes through this explanation, having no interest in making it seem like he did anything special. Anything important. He slips the tweezers back into his fanny pack and grabs for Richie's hands again.)
This will feel better.
(And sanitize. Eddie shakes the can of dermoplast and sprays it over both of Richie's hands. The can gets dropped a second later, and Eddie leans in close to Richie's hands to blow over them to help the stuff dry a bit faster.)
There. (Eddie sits up straight, smiling in a satisfied sort of way. He's still holding the backs of Richie's hands, just kinda not thinking to take them away.)