Nah, it's for... y'know the blood in my tears sometimes? The headset gave me somethin' called light toxicity in both eyes. I'm lucky it didn't burn right through my fuckin' corneas. [A little frisson of very raw anger vibrates through his words and then passes.] That's what would bring on the vertigo and photophobia when I went really hard with ARI, too. Sometimes it heals itself, sometimes it needs some help.
[Thus the question of surgery. He'd rather avoid it at all costs, but he'd also rather not go through life having the world lurch and swim around him if he looks too directly into a full-spectrum light and he'd really rather put a stop to the bleeding eyes.]
I might need tinted glasses too. Think I could pull 'em off?
[He lifts his head from Eddie's shoulder to give him a genuinely curious look, as if anyone could actually pull off tinted glasses. Be gentle with him, Eddie.]
Yeah. Yeah, crying blood stops being a neat party trick after the second or third time, I'm guessing. Then people just start wondering if you're actually possessed. Or just like really, really sick.
( Norman is lucky. Corneas doesn't have anything to do with irises, he knows, but Eddie would still be pretty bummed should something about this potential surgery affect Norman's eyes. He'd be fucking devastated if this surgery went wrong in any kind of way, but that's a horrible way to think about a procedure so he will the thought away. )
You? You look good in anything, man. You even make sweatpants three times your size look hot as fuck.
( Eddie sets down his mug and turns to him, bringing one knee up on the couch. )
[One of the many, many things Norman appreciates about Eddie is how he never feels the need to tell Norman how big and scary something sounds. He knows damn well that ocular surgery is a terrifying prospect, just like he knows that leaving it and crossing his fingers that it'll heal on its own comes with its own fears. He doesn't need anyone reinforcing that for him. Eddie's "joke and move on" approach feels like a balm on his nerves in comparison.
And then the energy between them shifts along with Eddie's physical shift to face him, and Norman sets down his coffee and cookies as well so that he can give Eddie's thigh a firm squeeze.] Two times my size, at most.
[Then he looks over at Eddie with a crooked grin that's all invitation.]
( He's not opposed to stating the obvious, but Norman's right. They both know something dangerous is looming in the horizon; there's no need to overstate it. )
Woooow. You think my ass is big?
( Plus this is something he's sure they'd both enjoy more: hands on each other. A kinetic release of stress, frustration, passion, fear—whatever it is they're individually holding on to, it's like therapy in its own right. Eddie takes the hand on his thigh and drags it higher to where Norman can feel that he's already beginning to swell beneath his own comfy pants. Then he surges forward to kiss him, but not before saying: )
[Norman winds up laughing against Eddie's mouth but quickly catches up to the kiss, then grabs his arm and tries to tug him closer.]
C'mon, get your fat ass up here.
[Ever since the first time, Norman's always loved having Eddie in his lap. Every single part of him is so perfect to touch: firm and rounded with the kind of bulky muscle Norman can never put on his own body, but also soft in a few areas for Norman to really sink in his fingers and hold on tight. Just the thought of it is enough to start blood flowing downstairs with anticipation... god, the two of them are far too horny.]
( Venom would agree; these morons are way, way too horny. What about the show? Clearly becoming overly invested in terrible reality television was the whole point of this meeting! Norman's lucky that he can't hear Venom grumble about human physiology. A live narration of Eddie's dumb response to dumb external stimuli really stops being hot after... well, it was never really hot.
On the bright side, Eddie is taking his fat ass as a compliment—because he knows that's how Norman means it—and obliges by settling himself in Norman's lap. It's true that it's been a while since they've done this, both finding themselves caught up with their respective investigations. Eddie's gotten really close in his own right to nailing a group of local criminals, with the help of Venom. And Norman, of course, works too hard for his own good.
It's quite literally a detriment to him.
Not the time to criticize someone's dedication to the cause. Not when Norman's lips are on him and Eddie's immediate response is to grind his hips down against him. )
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oliverfield2022-04-15 11:09 pm
no subject
[Thus the question of surgery. He'd rather avoid it at all costs, but he'd also rather not go through life having the world lurch and swim around him if he looks too directly into a full-spectrum light and he'd really rather put a stop to the bleeding eyes.]
I might need tinted glasses too. Think I could pull 'em off?
[He lifts his head from Eddie's shoulder to give him a genuinely curious look, as if anyone could actually pull off tinted glasses. Be gentle with him, Eddie.]
no subject
( Norman is lucky. Corneas doesn't have anything to do with irises, he knows, but Eddie would still be pretty bummed should something about this potential surgery affect Norman's eyes. He'd be fucking devastated if this surgery went wrong in any kind of way, but that's a horrible way to think about a procedure so he will the thought away. )
You? You look good in anything, man. You even make sweatpants three times your size look hot as fuck.
( Eddie sets down his mug and turns to him, bringing one knee up on the couch. )
Right answer?
no subject
And then the energy between them shifts along with Eddie's physical shift to face him, and Norman sets down his coffee and cookies as well so that he can give Eddie's thigh a firm squeeze.] Two times my size, at most.
[Then he looks over at Eddie with a crooked grin that's all invitation.]
Maybe three times around the ass area.
no subject
Woooow. You think my ass is big?
( Plus this is something he's sure they'd both enjoy more: hands on each other. A kinetic release of stress, frustration, passion, fear—whatever it is they're individually holding on to, it's like therapy in its own right. Eddie takes the hand on his thigh and drags it higher to where Norman can feel that he's already beginning to swell beneath his own comfy pants. Then he surges forward to kiss him, but not before saying: )
No. No one looks good in tinted glassed.
no subject
C'mon, get your fat ass up here.
[Ever since the first time, Norman's always loved having Eddie in his lap. Every single part of him is so perfect to touch: firm and rounded with the kind of bulky muscle Norman can never put on his own body, but also soft in a few areas for Norman to really sink in his fingers and hold on tight. Just the thought of it is enough to start blood flowing downstairs with anticipation... god, the two of them are far too horny.]
no subject
On the bright side, Eddie is taking his fat ass as a compliment—because he knows that's how Norman means it—and obliges by settling himself in Norman's lap. It's true that it's been a while since they've done this, both finding themselves caught up with their respective investigations. Eddie's gotten really close in his own right to nailing a group of local criminals, with the help of Venom. And Norman, of course, works too hard for his own good.
It's quite literally a detriment to him.
Not the time to criticize someone's dedication to the cause. Not when Norman's lips are on him and Eddie's immediate response is to grind his hips down against him. )