[ It's the summer after Neibolt, and for most of the people in Derry, nothing bad ever happened. It's as if the events of the previous year never occurred - there are no more missing children posters, the curfew has been lifted, and life goes on much like it always has.
For the Losers, though, nothing will ever be quite the same.
Bev's gone, for one thing. She comes to visit sometimes, but without her their little ragtag group doesn't feel complete. Ben and Mike hang out with them more often, which is fun, and now that Bowers is in juvie life is a little easier for all of them. The biggest change is the quietest one, though: it's the way they've all matured a bit, the unspoken knowledge that what they've been through has made them different.
Richie finds it harder to spend time alone nowadays. His parents have gotten even busier with work, and his sister's always out with her boyfriend, so even at home he never really has company. Maybe that's why he's taken to inviting Eddie over for sleepovers more and more often.
Tonight is just like all the other nights they've hung out together. They play some games on Richie's Atari, eat way too much junk food, and eventually pass out after talking like into the night, Richie in his bed and Eddie in a sleeping bag next to him. Only tonight, after their conversation trailed off and Eddie's breathing evened out, Richie found himself still awake, his brain filled with thoughts he doesn't quite know how to handle.
After what feels like hours, he gives up on sleeping and leans over the edge of the bed, squinting to try and make out Eddie's blurred form in the dark. ]
[ Rarely did the events at Neibolt come up when the Losers were all together. Mostly for comfort. It was in the past, for now anyways. More than anyone Stan wanted to push past what had happened.
Eddie though, his mind wandered too much. It wasn't so much about what had seen, but more about how he felt. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered those missing children. Well, they weren't really missing anymore. They had found them. Betty Ripsom's mom coming to school every day to look for her. Bill's determination to find Georgie. All the while those missing kids being right under the foot of everyone mourning the loss of them.
He had been teetering on the brink of sleep when Richie spoke up. Really Eddie shouldn't have been expecting any different. This is on brand for their usual sleepover. ]
I almost was. It's hard to sleep over your mouth-breathing.
[ Despite chastising him, Eddie's thankful he doesn't have to be alone with his mind anymore. ]
[ Even though they don't talk about it, all of the Losers know they're still dealing with the effects of what happened last year. Richie's glad that none of them want to change - well, okay, he's mostly glad that Eddie still wants to hang out with him like they used to.
Waking him up is pretty typical, as is the other boy's ability to retort with an insult. It's familiar, and safe, and yet Richie still can't help feeling a little on edge.
He does his best to hide it when he speaks, though. ]
Like your shitty lungs make you sound any better, [ he fires back. Usually he'd be grinning, but it's hard to feel super pumped up right now. He goes quiet for a second, then asks slowly, ]
Hey, uh... I was wondering. Do you, like. Like anybody right now?
[ Somehow, no matter how many sleepovers they have, seeing Richie without his glasses always is a bit jarring. Eddie never truly takes into account just how much they obstruct his face. But it's nice. The moon peeks in from the windows and paints the sides of his face, it's the only way Eddie can even see him as he blinks the darkness away to stare up at his best friend with mock frustration. ]
[ But he doesn't say no, because if Eddie says he wants it, Richie will happily get it for him. If he can find it, at least.
The truth of the matter is - despite all his joking and sex talk - Richie is just as head over heels for Eddie as he was when they were kids, if not moreso. And, because this is a second chance he almost never got to have, he's even more eager to spend as much time as he can with Eddie by his side.
In about twenty minutes there's a knock on Eddie's door, along with a call of, ] Eduardo! I got your shit, let me in!
[ True to Richie's word, there's a knock on his door in twenty; either he's that desperate to pound Eddie into the mattress or he'd had less trouble finding the aisle that spirulina powder was in than Eddie had anticipated. When Eddie tugs the door open, he's still a little damp from the shower, dressed for bed in a t-shirt and shorts. ]
It's a superfood.
[ –he informs Richie, matter of factly, before tugging him down into a kiss, one hand fisted in his shirt, although he pulls back a little a few seconds into in so that he can tug him back through the door. ]
Really good for you. Let me put it in your coffee tomorrow–you can't even taste it, I swear–
[ The truth is: both. He'd actually just asked a star-struck employee at the Whole Foods to show him where it was. He'd also picked up a few oranges because he knew from one of Eddie's numerous rants that vitamin C helped with iron absorption, but the groceries he's carrying are totally forgotten as soon as Eddie opens the door and stands there like something out of his favorite porno movie. ]
Wh-
[ He doesn't even get to speak because oh, this is how Eddie's gonna be, huh? The kiss totally catches him off guard, and there's no hiding the way his legs wobble as he's tugged into the apartment. ]
I, uh. Yeah? Whatever you say, just - kiss me like that again, okay?
[ He kisses him again, before pulling back to continue on breathlessly. ]
Go for a run with me tomorrow. [ And then, again. ] Burn that dumb Hawaiian shirt you got last month. [ A third time. ] Get yourself a winter jacket that's actually insulated–
[ But fortunately, or unfortunately, his attention is diverted by the groceries in Richie's hand, and the oranges inside, and he releases him to investigate. ]
What the fuck is that. [ But a pleased What the fuck is that, not an angry one (as in: to the muddy footprints on the carpet left in Richie's wake one rainy evening), or even a baffled one (as in: to a lone red sock of Richie's turning an entire load of whites pink). ] You brought me oranges? I didn't think you were listening. About the vitamin C.
[ Seeing Eddie worked up and taking charge like this doesn't happen often, but every time it does Richie finds himself turning into a puddle of goo. There's just something about the sudden assertiveness - dominance, even - that completely destroys his ability to think straight.
As Eddie speaks and kisses him he hums in agreement, although the Hawaiian shirt comment makes him frown and grumble. When they break apart he opens his mouth to protest, wanting to snap back with a comment about how they're in New York for Pete's sake it never gets that cold and also he's huge remember so he stays warm for longer than a pipsqueak like Eddie and -- ]
Huh? [ He looks down at the bag of groceries, his eyebrows knitting together. How could he have possibly fucked up this time? - But no, Eddie's... happy?
It makes him flush a little, and he blusters past Eddie into the kitchen so he can set the bag down on the counter (not the floor, never the floor). ]
What? No, I just wanted freshly-squeezed orange juice for breakfast. I am a celebrity, y'know.
[ But he says it a little fondly, maybe, as he follows Richie into the kitchen. He'd never have thought that he'd date a celebrity–or a man, even. Or Richie Tozier. He's happy for his success, genuinely, (less so when he's unwillingly featured in Richie's standup material), but it's taken some getting used to. Last week one of the VPs at work had pulled him aside, eagerly, to ask if he could get an autograph from Richie for him. ]
Unless that's why you think I let you come over. What if I'm just after you for your Netflix money? Or because my thing is really, like, some asshole telling embarrassing stories about me onstage to thousands of people–
[ Richie knows he isn't really all the famous. He meets people more well-known than himself on a daily basis, and besides, becoming a household name was never really his goal. He just wants to make people laugh, that's all, and if somewhere along the way more people start recognizing him - and paying him better - well, who is he to complain? ]
Ooh, secret kinks, huh? [ He turns back to Eddie and snakes his arms around the shorter man's waist, grinning down at him. ] I can do it more often if it gets you off, babe. Just say the word and I'll let everyone know about the time you screamed when we were watching the Charlie Brown Halloween special.
[ This time, it's Eddie's turn to be flustered; embarrassed, he squirms a little in Richie's embrace. Fuck. He thought he'd forgotten about first. ]
I don't have any secret kinks, and I didn't scream, asshole, I was just...surprised, you know, it's more suspenseful than you think it's gonna be–
[ The worst part of that story had been that–contrary to how it might sound–it had happened months ago, not years, and Eddie is fairly certain that he'd been clutching Richie's arm tightly enough that the little crescent moon marks from his nails were permanently embedded in his skin. ]
[ Richie just laughs in response, his grin stretching so wide it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle up, before he leans in for another kiss. It's longer this time, more lingering and affectionate, but the hunger from before is still there. ]
You can tell me, [ he murmurs when he finally pulls away. ] If you do have any secret kinks.
[ His fingers sweep along the skin just under the hem of Eddie's shirt, and he tilts his head so he can press a trail of kisses along the other's cheek, then down along his neck. ]
[ Eddie likes it when Richie laughs–he's just usually too busy defending himself for one reason or another to appreciate it, truly, and it's nice to see now, even if he's fairly certain that he's the one being laughed at here. He's quickly distracted, though, by a kiss, and he can't help but lean into it, stretching up onto his toes as Richie pulls back before he finally lets him go.
The brief bit of heated contact as Richie's fingers brush against his skin, just barely, is enough to make Eddie exhale shakily, one hand fisted in Richie's shirt. It takes him a second for what he's saying to register, although there's another distraction as he kisses him again–this time down his cheek, past the scar Bowers left, down his neck. ]
I just–I like you. I don't know. I– [ A thought occurs to him. ] Well, I mean, I guess there's... [ He pauses, flushing. ] I mean, it's not really, uh, relevant?
[ It probably seems kind of cruel for Richie to laugh as often as he does around Eddie, but it's always been out of affection rather than malice. No one makes him happier than his ridiculous hypochondriac of a boyfriend, and he's eager to prove it by giving Eddie whatever he wants.
He's still gonna tease him mercilessly about it, of course, because doing otherwise would go directly against the Trashmouth Brand.™ ]
Hmm? [ His eyebrows lift as Eddie speaks and he pulls back a little to look the other in the eye. He keeps his fingers moving over Eddie's hipbones, thumbs reaching up to caress the lower edge of his ribcage. ] How is it not relevant? Tell me what it is, I wanna make it happen for you.
[ Eddie regrets bringing this up. He's already forged significantly further into the realm of sexual exploration than he'd ever had anticipated within the past few months; secret kinks on top of that is pushing it. He sighs. ]
It's not relevant because, uh, location-wise– [ How to put this. It's hard to figure it out; he's thought about it a few times since, guiltily, even dwelling upon it...er, significantly, once or twice, late at night. ]
When we went out for drinks the other week. With everyone else. That bar, it was fucking disgusting, by the way, everything was sticky, and it smelled like an ashtray, and there was an alley out back, I could see it whenever someone went out for a smoke, or whatever, and I thought–
[ Sometimes, he doesn't hate being smaller than Richie; it's easier to avoid his gaze and direct the rest of this to his collarbone. ]
This is embarrassing. [ –he groans. ] I just–you looked really good, and I thought, who'd notice if we were gone for a little while. That filthy fucking alleyway. Getting on my knees there, even with all the...broken glass, or the MRSA, or whatever the fuck else was out there. Or letting you–I don't know, do something else, having to be quick and quiet about it. Sneaking back into the bar like nothing had happened.
[ Richie stays quiet while Eddie figures out what he's saying. Despite his reputation, he's gotten a lot better at listening and not interrupting - probably because of all the time he spends with Eddie nowadays.
He keeps his fingers moving idly, stroking circular patterns over the other's warm skin, his eyes watching Eddie's expression even when he refuses to make eye contact.
As the description slowly unwinds Richie can feel himself getting harder and harder because holy shit, there's nothing hotter in the universe than listening to Eddie Kaspbrak say he wants to blow him in some dirty fucking alley behind a bar. By the time he finishes, Richie is rock-hard and his fingers have tightened their grip in order to pull Eddie closer, in order to press his body up against Richie's so he can feel exactly what he's done with that little fantasy. ]
Holy fucking shit, Eds, [ Richie breathes out, his eyes wide and hungry. ] Do you realize how fucking hot that sounds? Jesus christ --
[ It's barely a touch, Richie's fingers moving in slow, maddening circles, but it's certainly obvious that it's been enough to get Eddie worked up once Richie rocks up against him–even eager for that bit of contact, he arches up against him, dropping his forehead to rest against Richie's collarbone. ]
It sounds disgusting.
[ –he says, a little breathlessly, half muffled into Richie's shirt, because it does, but maybe that's what's getting him hot, being desperate for it enough so that he could overlook the broken bottles and the cigarette ash. ]
I don't know what I was thinking–I mean, what if we got caught–
[ Richie exhales a hot, shaky breath as Eddie presses up against him, and he can't keep from grinding forward a little. He slips one hand out of the other's shirt so he can reach up and card his fingers through the still-damp locks of Eddie's hair. ]
It sounds fucking incredible, [ he replies, his voice huskier now that he's been given something so amazing to imagine. ] You thought I looked that good, huh? So good you wanted me to fuck your mouth right there?
[ The hand in Eddie's hair retreats, but only so that Richie can curl his fingers around Eddie's jaw, grasping tight enough to tilt his head up a little ]
[ Eddie leans into his touch as he drags his fingers through his hair, lost in how good that feels until Richie continues on–and something about what he say, how coarsely he says it, makes Eddie squirm. He meets his gaze reluctantly once he guides him to look at him, although his eyes flick away again at the question he poses. ]
Why the fuck would I want that. [ –he protests, but it's a half-hearted protest, not quite a denial, and even as he says it, he thinks about it, flushing with shame and...something else, maybe. Heat. What if they got caught? What if someone saw him? ]
What the fuck do you want, anyway. [ He adds it hastily, a little eager to change the subject, and as he does so, he slots a hand in between them, fumbling to press it to where he can feel Richie's erection with the heel of his palm, almost teasingly. ] So horny I might die, you said. What were you doing? [ A beat. ] If you say my mom, I swear to Christ, I'm not touching you for the rest of tonight.
[ God, feeling Eddie squirm like that, seeing the way he can't even maintain eye contact because he's too embarrassed - it's straight out of one of Richie's wet dreams, honestly. It's situations like these where he feels as big as he is, as though he's towering over Eddie, as if he could control him with little more than a strong grasp and a few well-chosen words.
The flush on his face is so pretty that Richie can't keep from leaning forward to kiss him again, a hungry groan rising in his throat when he feels the other's hand press against him without nearly enough pressure. When he pulls back it's with a hiss, and for a second he squeezes his eyes shut, too busy focusing on rocking his hips forward to come up with an answer. ]
You stole my joke, [ he says eventually, opening his eyes and grinning so wide he almost looks crazy. ] But for real --
[ He leans in again, this time so that he can press his lips close to Eddie's ear and whisper the story to him: ]
I was at this work party, right? Everyone was drinking, you know how some of those guys get when they let loose - [ Eddie probably doesn't know, actually, but that's besides the point; ] - and at one point I went to the bathroom, it was so fucking far away you couldn't even hear the music, and as soon as I got in there I heard these voices, right?
[ The images bloom in his mind as he recounts what happened, and Eddie will no doubt be able to feel the way his cock fucking throbs as he speaks. ]
I don't know who they were, but I could hear them, Eds, and they were fucking going at it right there in the stall, barely even trying to be quiet, I could hear fucking everything, and all I could think of was how fucking bad I wanna do that to you, make you need it so bad you don't care who hears you fucking begging for me --
[ Eddie nearly forgets that he'd asked him a question when Richie kisses him–because god, what a distraction. He's even more frustrated when Richie pulls away, particularly if it's to continue on with a dumb your mom joke–
–until he tucks his face against Eddie's and decides to whisper filth into Eddie's ear instead, and Eddie goes a little weak at the knees, clutching at Richie's shirt as he thinks about it, wanting Richie to fuck him badly enough that he'd let him do it where someone could hear, someone could see. He'd teased him about begging before and Eddie had been right in what he'd said back, that it had only happened once, but that didn't mean that the memory hadn't been carefully filed away for more than one guilt-ridden...er, personal session that he's since neatly repressed. Until now, anyway. ]
Oh, fuck. [ –he says weakly, not even quite aware of it until after he's said it. He's hard enough so that he aches, now, and impulsively, he fumbles with Richie's zip, somehow mustering up enough coordination to undo it so that he can grasp his cock. It's a relief, even just to feel him, and he exhales shakily, giving it a cursory stroke. ] Richie–I-I mean, that's–you can't just say stuff like that–
[ Richie doesn't miss the way Eddie grasps at his clothing, nor the way his voice shakes when he speaks. It's something that's come up before, the begging, and ever since that night Richie's been obsessed with getting it to happen again. He couldn't just force it, obviously, but tonight seems like the perfect night to do a little... encouraging.
A choked groan rises in his throat when Eddie starts messing around with his zipper, the feeling of his fumbling almost as good as the actual skin-to-skin contact he finally gets. He goes quiet for a second as he rocks his hips forward, his eyebrows knitting together as a wave of pleasure washes over him. ]
Fucking shit, Eds -- [ His hands shift so that he can grasp the other man's face and kiss him, hot and hungry and hornier than he's been in years. When he pulls back his expression betrays just how affected he really is. ]
I can't? Why not? [ he grins again, wide and wild. ] What if I whispered that to you next time we go out with the others, huh? With Bev and Ben and Bill? What if I just lean in and tell you that I'm gonna meet you out back in ten minutes so I can fuck you exactly the way you want me to?
[ Eddie's not really sure when, exactly, all of this fell out of his control. Richie had all but begged him to come over and let him fuck him, and then he'd seemed perfectly willing to let Eddie issue a number of commands when he'd met him at the door. He likes calling the shots, normally, but it's easier to admit to that than it is to liking this, whatever this is.
Or, well, maybe it's just admitting to it verbally that he has trouble with. Physically, it's obvious that Eddie likes this; how he's a little clumsy as he strokes Richie's cock, how eagerly he kisses him, how hard he is as he arches up against him, caught between wanting to give himself enough space to work with his hand and also, sort of, wanting to climb Richie like a tree. ]
I'd tell you to go fuck yourself. [ –he pants, and that's true. However. ] But I'd, uh. Probably have to meet you in five?
[ It's easy to imagine, somehow, and Eddie isn't quite sure how that happened, either, how easily he, Edward Kaspbrak, risk assessor, apparently became someone who'd be willing to let another man fuck him out back behind some seedy bar. Not exactly one of the aftereffects of Pennywise's defeat that he'd envisioned would come to pass, but he prefers to think about it as a coincidence rather than something directly related. ]
You're so gross. [ He continues on with a complaint, but it's halfway between fond and exasperated. ] I mean, I'd feel it when we came back–when we'd have to pick up the conversation about Bill's new movie, or whatever–
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
for lovser
Date: 2019-10-01 02:02 pm (UTC)For the Losers, though, nothing will ever be quite the same.
Bev's gone, for one thing. She comes to visit sometimes, but without her their little ragtag group doesn't feel complete. Ben and Mike hang out with them more often, which is fun, and now that Bowers is in juvie life is a little easier for all of them. The biggest change is the quietest one, though: it's the way they've all matured a bit, the unspoken knowledge that what they've been through has made them different.
Richie finds it harder to spend time alone nowadays. His parents have gotten even busier with work, and his sister's always out with her boyfriend, so even at home he never really has company. Maybe that's why he's taken to inviting Eddie over for sleepovers more and more often.
Tonight is just like all the other nights they've hung out together. They play some games on Richie's Atari, eat way too much junk food, and eventually pass out after talking like into the night, Richie in his bed and Eddie in a sleeping bag next to him. Only tonight, after their conversation trailed off and Eddie's breathing evened out, Richie found himself still awake, his brain filled with thoughts he doesn't quite know how to handle.
After what feels like hours, he gives up on sleeping and leans over the edge of the bed, squinting to try and make out Eddie's blurred form in the dark. ]
Eds? [ he whispers. ] You asleep?
Re: for lovser
Date: 2019-10-02 09:48 pm (UTC)Eddie though, his mind wandered too much. It wasn't so much about what had seen, but more about how he felt. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered those missing children. Well, they weren't really missing anymore. They had found them. Betty Ripsom's mom coming to school every day to look for her. Bill's determination to find Georgie. All the while those missing kids being right under the foot of everyone mourning the loss of them.
He had been teetering on the brink of sleep when Richie spoke up. Really Eddie shouldn't have been expecting any different. This is on brand for their usual sleepover. ]
I almost was. It's hard to sleep over your mouth-breathing.
[ Despite chastising him, Eddie's thankful he doesn't have to be alone with his mind anymore. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-10-23 04:56 pm (UTC)Waking him up is pretty typical, as is the other boy's ability to retort with an insult. It's familiar, and safe, and yet Richie still can't help feeling a little on edge.
He does his best to hide it when he speaks, though. ]
Like your shitty lungs make you sound any better, [ he fires back. Usually he'd be grinning, but it's hard to feel super pumped up right now. He goes quiet for a second, then asks slowly, ]
Hey, uh... I was wondering. Do you, like. Like anybody right now?
no subject
Date: 2019-10-24 08:50 pm (UTC)Just your sister. Why, do you?
for asthenia
Date: 2019-10-29 05:06 pm (UTC)-------------
what the hell even is that?? yeesh
[ But he doesn't say no, because if Eddie says he wants it, Richie will happily get it for him. If he can find it, at least.
The truth of the matter is - despite all his joking and sex talk - Richie is just as head over heels for Eddie as he was when they were kids, if not moreso. And, because this is a second chance he almost never got to have, he's even more eager to spend as much time as he can with Eddie by his side.
In about twenty minutes there's a knock on Eddie's door, along with a call of, ] Eduardo! I got your shit, let me in!
no subject
Date: 2019-10-29 07:55 pm (UTC)It's a superfood.
[ –he informs Richie, matter of factly, before tugging him down into a kiss, one hand fisted in his shirt, although he pulls back a little a few seconds into in so that he can tug him back through the door. ]
Really good for you. Let me put it in your coffee tomorrow–you can't even taste it, I swear–
no subject
Date: 2019-10-29 09:54 pm (UTC)Wh-
[ He doesn't even get to speak because oh, this is how Eddie's gonna be, huh? The kiss totally catches him off guard, and there's no hiding the way his legs wobble as he's tugged into the apartment. ]
I, uh. Yeah? Whatever you say, just - kiss me like that again, okay?
no subject
Date: 2019-10-30 03:35 am (UTC)Really?
[ He kisses him again, before pulling back to continue on breathlessly. ]
Go for a run with me tomorrow. [ And then, again. ] Burn that dumb Hawaiian shirt you got last month. [ A third time. ] Get yourself a winter jacket that's actually insulated–
[ But fortunately, or unfortunately, his attention is diverted by the groceries in Richie's hand, and the oranges inside, and he releases him to investigate. ]
What the fuck is that. [ But a pleased What the fuck is that, not an angry one (as in: to the muddy footprints on the carpet left in Richie's wake one rainy evening), or even a baffled one (as in: to a lone red sock of Richie's turning an entire load of whites pink). ] You brought me oranges? I didn't think you were listening. About the vitamin C.
no subject
Date: 2019-10-30 03:23 pm (UTC)As Eddie speaks and kisses him he hums in agreement, although the Hawaiian shirt comment makes him frown and grumble. When they break apart he opens his mouth to protest, wanting to snap back with a comment about how they're in New York for Pete's sake it never gets that cold and also he's huge remember so he stays warm for longer than a pipsqueak like Eddie and -- ]
Huh? [ He looks down at the bag of groceries, his eyebrows knitting together. How could he have possibly fucked up this time? - But no, Eddie's... happy?
It makes him flush a little, and he blusters past Eddie into the kitchen so he can set the bag down on the counter (not the floor, never the floor). ]
What? No, I just wanted freshly-squeezed orange juice for breakfast. I am a celebrity, y'know.
no subject
Date: 2019-10-30 05:27 pm (UTC)Not in this house.
[ But he says it a little fondly, maybe, as he follows Richie into the kitchen. He'd never have thought that he'd date a celebrity–or a man, even. Or Richie Tozier. He's happy for his success, genuinely, (less so when he's unwillingly featured in Richie's standup material), but it's taken some getting used to. Last week one of the VPs at work had pulled him aside, eagerly, to ask if he could get an autograph from Richie for him. ]
Unless that's why you think I let you come over. What if I'm just after you for your Netflix money? Or because my thing is really, like, some asshole telling embarrassing stories about me onstage to thousands of people–
no subject
Date: 2019-10-30 05:50 pm (UTC)Ooh, secret kinks, huh? [ He turns back to Eddie and snakes his arms around the shorter man's waist, grinning down at him. ] I can do it more often if it gets you off, babe. Just say the word and I'll let everyone know about the time you screamed when we were watching the Charlie Brown Halloween special.
no subject
Date: 2019-10-30 07:29 pm (UTC)I don't have any secret kinks, and I didn't scream, asshole, I was just...surprised, you know, it's more suspenseful than you think it's gonna be–
[ The worst part of that story had been that–contrary to how it might sound–it had happened months ago, not years, and Eddie is fairly certain that he'd been clutching Richie's arm tightly enough that the little crescent moon marks from his nails were permanently embedded in his skin. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-10-30 09:00 pm (UTC)You can tell me, [ he murmurs when he finally pulls away. ] If you do have any secret kinks.
[ His fingers sweep along the skin just under the hem of Eddie's shirt, and he tilts his head so he can press a trail of kisses along the other's cheek, then down along his neck. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-10-31 01:31 am (UTC)The brief bit of heated contact as Richie's fingers brush against his skin, just barely, is enough to make Eddie exhale shakily, one hand fisted in Richie's shirt. It takes him a second for what he's saying to register, although there's another distraction as he kisses him again–this time down his cheek, past the scar Bowers left, down his neck. ]
I just–I like you. I don't know. I– [ A thought occurs to him. ] Well, I mean, I guess there's... [ He pauses, flushing. ] I mean, it's not really, uh, relevant?
no subject
Date: 2019-10-31 02:24 am (UTC)He's still gonna tease him mercilessly about it, of course, because doing otherwise would go directly against the Trashmouth Brand.™ ]
Hmm? [ His eyebrows lift as Eddie speaks and he pulls back a little to look the other in the eye. He keeps his fingers moving over Eddie's hipbones, thumbs reaching up to caress the lower edge of his ribcage. ] How is it not relevant? Tell me what it is, I wanna make it happen for you.
no subject
Date: 2019-10-31 07:05 am (UTC)It's not relevant because, uh, location-wise– [ How to put this. It's hard to figure it out; he's thought about it a few times since, guiltily, even dwelling upon it...er, significantly, once or twice, late at night. ]
When we went out for drinks the other week. With everyone else. That bar, it was fucking disgusting, by the way, everything was sticky, and it smelled like an ashtray, and there was an alley out back, I could see it whenever someone went out for a smoke, or whatever, and I thought–
[ Sometimes, he doesn't hate being smaller than Richie; it's easier to avoid his gaze and direct the rest of this to his collarbone. ]
This is embarrassing. [ –he groans. ] I just–you looked really good, and I thought, who'd notice if we were gone for a little while. That filthy fucking alleyway. Getting on my knees there, even with all the...broken glass, or the MRSA, or whatever the fuck else was out there. Or letting you–I don't know, do something else, having to be quick and quiet about it. Sneaking back into the bar like nothing had happened.
no subject
Date: 2019-10-31 02:01 pm (UTC)He keeps his fingers moving idly, stroking circular patterns over the other's warm skin, his eyes watching Eddie's expression even when he refuses to make eye contact.
As the description slowly unwinds Richie can feel himself getting harder and harder because holy shit, there's nothing hotter in the universe than listening to Eddie Kaspbrak say he wants to blow him in some dirty fucking alley behind a bar. By the time he finishes, Richie is rock-hard and his fingers have tightened their grip in order to pull Eddie closer, in order to press his body up against Richie's so he can feel exactly what he's done with that little fantasy. ]
Holy fucking shit, Eds, [ Richie breathes out, his eyes wide and hungry. ] Do you realize how fucking hot that sounds? Jesus christ --
no subject
Date: 2019-10-31 09:18 pm (UTC)It sounds disgusting.
[ –he says, a little breathlessly, half muffled into Richie's shirt, because it does, but maybe that's what's getting him hot, being desperate for it enough so that he could overlook the broken bottles and the cigarette ash. ]
I don't know what I was thinking–I mean, what if we got caught–
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Date: 2019-10-31 09:59 pm (UTC)It sounds fucking incredible, [ he replies, his voice huskier now that he's been given something so amazing to imagine. ] You thought I looked that good, huh? So good you wanted me to fuck your mouth right there?
[ The hand in Eddie's hair retreats, but only so that Richie can curl his fingers around Eddie's jaw, grasping tight enough to tilt his head up a little ]
What if we did get caught? Do you want that, Eds?
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Date: 2019-11-01 03:54 am (UTC)Why the fuck would I want that. [ –he protests, but it's a half-hearted protest, not quite a denial, and even as he says it, he thinks about it, flushing with shame and...something else, maybe. Heat. What if they got caught? What if someone saw him? ]
What the fuck do you want, anyway. [ He adds it hastily, a little eager to change the subject, and as he does so, he slots a hand in between them, fumbling to press it to where he can feel Richie's erection with the heel of his palm, almost teasingly. ] So horny I might die, you said. What were you doing? [ A beat. ] If you say my mom, I swear to Christ, I'm not touching you for the rest of tonight.
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Date: 2019-11-01 07:35 pm (UTC)The flush on his face is so pretty that Richie can't keep from leaning forward to kiss him again, a hungry groan rising in his throat when he feels the other's hand press against him without nearly enough pressure. When he pulls back it's with a hiss, and for a second he squeezes his eyes shut, too busy focusing on rocking his hips forward to come up with an answer. ]
You stole my joke, [ he says eventually, opening his eyes and grinning so wide he almost looks crazy. ] But for real --
[ He leans in again, this time so that he can press his lips close to Eddie's ear and whisper the story to him: ]
I was at this work party, right? Everyone was drinking, you know how some of those guys get when they let loose - [ Eddie probably doesn't know, actually, but that's besides the point; ] - and at one point I went to the bathroom, it was so fucking far away you couldn't even hear the music, and as soon as I got in there I heard these voices, right?
[ The images bloom in his mind as he recounts what happened, and Eddie will no doubt be able to feel the way his cock fucking throbs as he speaks. ]
I don't know who they were, but I could hear them, Eds, and they were fucking going at it right there in the stall, barely even trying to be quiet, I could hear fucking everything, and all I could think of was how fucking bad I wanna do that to you, make you need it so bad you don't care who hears you fucking begging for me --
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Date: 2019-11-02 03:22 am (UTC)–until he tucks his face against Eddie's and decides to whisper filth into Eddie's ear instead, and Eddie goes a little weak at the knees, clutching at Richie's shirt as he thinks about it, wanting Richie to fuck him badly enough that he'd let him do it where someone could hear, someone could see. He'd teased him about begging before and Eddie had been right in what he'd said back, that it had only happened once, but that didn't mean that the memory hadn't been carefully filed away for more than one guilt-ridden...er, personal session that he's since neatly repressed. Until now, anyway. ]
Oh, fuck. [ –he says weakly, not even quite aware of it until after he's said it. He's hard enough so that he aches, now, and impulsively, he fumbles with Richie's zip, somehow mustering up enough coordination to undo it so that he can grasp his cock. It's a relief, even just to feel him, and he exhales shakily, giving it a cursory stroke. ] Richie–I-I mean, that's–you can't just say stuff like that–
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Date: 2019-11-13 04:01 am (UTC)A choked groan rises in his throat when Eddie starts messing around with his zipper, the feeling of his fumbling almost as good as the actual skin-to-skin contact he finally gets. He goes quiet for a second as he rocks his hips forward, his eyebrows knitting together as a wave of pleasure washes over him. ]
Fucking shit, Eds -- [ His hands shift so that he can grasp the other man's face and kiss him, hot and hungry and hornier than he's been in years. When he pulls back his expression betrays just how affected he really is. ]
I can't? Why not? [ he grins again, wide and wild. ] What if I whispered that to you next time we go out with the others, huh? With Bev and Ben and Bill? What if I just lean in and tell you that I'm gonna meet you out back in ten minutes so I can fuck you exactly the way you want me to?
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Date: 2019-11-18 08:59 am (UTC)Or, well, maybe it's just admitting to it verbally that he has trouble with. Physically, it's obvious that Eddie likes this; how he's a little clumsy as he strokes Richie's cock, how eagerly he kisses him, how hard he is as he arches up against him, caught between wanting to give himself enough space to work with his hand and also, sort of, wanting to climb Richie like a tree. ]
I'd tell you to go fuck yourself. [ –he pants, and that's true. However. ] But I'd, uh. Probably have to meet you in five?
[ It's easy to imagine, somehow, and Eddie isn't quite sure how that happened, either, how easily he, Edward Kaspbrak, risk assessor, apparently became someone who'd be willing to let another man fuck him out back behind some seedy bar. Not exactly one of the aftereffects of Pennywise's defeat that he'd envisioned would come to pass, but he prefers to think about it as a coincidence rather than something directly related. ]
You're so gross. [ He continues on with a complaint, but it's halfway between fond and exasperated. ] I mean, I'd feel it when we came back–when we'd have to pick up the conversation about Bill's new movie, or whatever–