Date: 2019-11-18 08:59 am (UTC)
asthenia: (251)
From: [personal profile] asthenia
[ 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–
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Richie Tozier

January 2021

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