In a Cottage in the Woods There Lived a Witch

The Vampire and the Wolf in the Flesh

Eddie had spent so much time in the forest that surrounded the Harrington house that he knew it like the back of his hand... wing... whichever. He knew every twig and stone and leaf. He knew where squirrels, birds, raccoons, and all manner of treetop fauna made their nests. He knew the paths of deer and badgers and stray cats along the forest floor. He was confident that he could fly through the canopy without collision in the dark of night or the cover of fog. He could do so with his eyes closed, he was reasonably certain.

Billy was... not as familiar with the woods. Even before Billy had given in and finally admitted that they were staying, he had busied himself napping in the sun or annoying Steve by getting in the way of his casting and gardening whenever they were outside. Sure, they'd all gone on walks and runs together through these woods, but Steve kept to the well-worn footpaths that crisscrossed the terrain, avoiding gnarled roots and denser tangles of weeds and ferns. Billy never strayed far from him, occasionally diving into the brush to chase a rabbit, or a squirrel, or the shadow of a bird. Sometimes, when they slowed to a walk for their cool downs, Billy would mouth at Steve's hands in search of affection or zoned out on autopilot.

All the while, Eddie was fluttering a head, memorizing whatever he could of the forest just in case. Because for all of Billy's might and strength, he wasn't the one who planned. He wasn't the one who looked ahead for obstacles or shortcuts. Billy was a brute. A beautiful brute that Eddie loved with all his unbeating little heart, but a brute nonetheless.

Eddie knew these woods because he felt like he had to know them. Centuries of anxiety and what if and just in case had driven him to map out every stump and stone within a ten-mile radius, even when Steve had given them no reason to worry. Today, however, it gave him an advantage in their game

Eddie folded back into his skins the second he passed the treeline, certain that no one would see him once he was under the cover of trees. The transition wasn't as fluid as it had been before, when the action had been like uncrossing legs to stand or shrugging out of a winter coat. After months spent in a single form, his muscles groaned and his joints popped and clicked. His body ached as it transformed, and as he hit the ground, he stumbled uncharacteristically. But still, for all the discomfort of assuming a form he hadn't for months, it was a relief to be back in his skins. Back in a form that was larger and more capable than the diminutive size that he'd chosen to make it easier for Billy to carry him. A body that he liked the look and shape of.

Of course... that wasn't the only reason he'd abandoned his leathers. True, the stretching and running felt fantastic, and it was a good opportunity to get a better look at how his skin had healed. And also true, Eddie could have very easily folded into his monstrous body, all stone skin and talons and teeth. He could have become the horror that history and folklore knew him to be as he ran from his lover, inviting him to become his own horrible, nightmarish creature as he gave chase. And that would have been terribly fun -- it always was. It was just... this was too important. Months spent apart, unable to join bodily despite the whispered promises they both crooned down the line. The first reunion after death had gripped them both by the throats before Steve Harrington stole them away from it.

He wanted to be in his skins when Billy caught him. He wanted to feel Billy on his flesh and in his bones the way he could love him best when he allowed the wolf to finally pounce on him. He wanted their physical reunion to be real and important. Not the telepathic teasing down the line that they knew would not escalate, and not the feral game of mindless and sometimes violent fucking as monsters.

He pulled at bloodstained clothes next, ripping them off where they were already shredded. They came off easily, tattered as they were, falling behind him in a trail that Billy could follow, even in his skins. Next came his shoes, a literal stumbling block, as he nearly fell ass over head in his attempt to get them off. He threw them behind him, laughing at the grunt from the wolfman who batted them away as they were tossed at him.