[ 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
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–
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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 --
no subject
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–
no subject
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?
no subject
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–