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Oct. 1st, 2019 09:46 am
beepbeepboy: (Default)
[personal profile] beepbeepboy
 for stuff and things

Date: 2019-10-31 07:05 am (UTC)
asthenia: (172)
From: [personal profile] asthenia
[ 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.

Date: 2019-10-31 09:18 pm (UTC)
asthenia: (172)
From: [personal profile] asthenia
[ 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–

Date: 2019-11-01 03:54 am (UTC)
asthenia: (251)
From: [personal profile] asthenia
[ 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.

Date: 2019-11-02 03:22 am (UTC)
asthenia: (172)
From: [personal profile] asthenia
[ 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–

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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