Chapter Text
Thanksgiving break is just around the corner and Eddie is not looking forward to spending the long weekend cramped in a house that smells like mothballs with one aunt after another after another asking him how school is going or what he’s planning on doing after graduating or if he has a girlfriend yet.
There are only so many combinations of “fine”, “I don’t know yet”, and “fuck no” he can give before wanting to jump into the quarry and stay there until hypothermia takes him.
To make it worse, Mike is doing Thanksgiving in Florida this year—apparently, his grandfather has extended family there—so he’s not even going to have company on the drive between Castle Rock and Derry.
It’s the night before he has to leave, though, and Torrance is playing Harvard. It’s packed—Torrance men’s hockey is good this year and word travels fast. Torrance isn’t a sports school per se, but New Englanders love their hockey and it’s an easy support for newcomers to get attached to—fast-paced, a little bit violent, a little bit primal.
It’s all amplified tonight. The game is chippy from the start—Harvard rushes the Torrance goalie two minutes into the first period and there’s a good old-fashioned shoving match that ends with two Harvard players and three Torrance players in the penalty box, and it only goes downhill—uphill?—from there.
It’s a fantastic game, gets everyone in the crowd on their feet. Richie gets his first goal ten minutes into the first and his second is a buzzer-beater before the end of the second. Eddie is on the edge of his seat. Richie’s going to get a hat trick tonight. He can feel it.
And then he does.
Eddie screams himself hoarse as the crowd of baseball caps are tossed onto the ice and Richie smacks into his linemates with a roar that’s silent beneath the din of the crowd.
They run the rest of the clock out and just like that, they’ve blown out the Crimson 5-0.
///
Eddie slips away from Stan as they head out of the rink and Stan gives him a knowing look before letting him go. So what? Maybe Eddie is predictable. Maybe he’s too pumped up to care. Eddie knows exactly how Richie likes to celebrate a win like this and Eddie wants.
He makes his way down to the hallway outside the home locker room and messes around on his phone as he waits. He doesn’t wait long—Richie is one of the first ones out, chatting animatedly with Bill, Mike, and Ben. He catches sight of Eddie and his grin goes sharper. He strides over, long legs making it look easy, curls one hand beneath Eddie’s jaw to tilt his head up and crashes their mouths together. Eddie makes a little noise and curls his fingers into the front of Richie’s shirt.
Eddie hears Bill’s wolf-whistle, Mike’s “gross”, and Ben’s “get it, Tozier!” but they don’t quite register, not when Richie licks teasingly at the seam of his lips.
They break apart but the look in Richie’s eyes makes Eddie’s chest flutter.
“C’mere,” Richie grins and tugs Eddie towards a side hallway that Eddie knows contains meeting rooms and offices.
“Wear protection!” Mike calls and Eddie flips him off.
Richie drags him into the first room that has the door propped open—a meeting room that’s illuminated only by the light from the hallway and the moonlight streaming in through the windows.
Eddie has barely had time to survey the room before Richie’s fingers card through the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck and their mouths crash together. Eddie shivers into the kiss. His hands find purchase on Richie’s waist and he clings as Richie licks into his mouth while walking him back until he’s pressed against the wall with Richie’s thigh between his legs. Eddie makes a high pitched noise into the kiss and rocks forward helplessly.
“You were so fucking— ah—so fucking hot out there,” Eddie breathes. Richie kisses him again and again.
“Yeah?” Richie grins, shifting forward into Eddie’s crotch and drawing a moan.
“Yeah, Jesus,” Eddie mumbles.
“You can call me Richie.”
“Shut up,” Eddie hisses, leaning forward to kiss him again.
Richie grins into the kiss and the angle is off, but Richie shifts and then it’s perfect and oh Eddie is so easy for him.
Richie’s erection is a hard line against Eddie’s thigh and Eddie reaches a hand between them to palm at it.
Richie breaks back with a hiss. “Careful, Eds,” he says breathily. “You really know how to make a guy wanna come in his pants.”
Eddie hums. “I wanna blow you.”
“Jesus.”
“You can call me Eddie.”
Richie barks out a laugh and pulls Eddie forward into another kiss. Eddie has just undone the button on Richie’s pants when they hear voices growing louder.
“Shh, shh,” Richie grins, scratching a hand down Eddie’s side as Eddie muffles a whimper into the curve of Richie’s neck. Eddie nips Richie’s shoulder in retaliation and it’s Richie’s turn to bite back a hiss.
It’s just a handful of guys, joking around about the game and the party they’re headed to later, but they get closer to meeting room door that’s still ajar and Eddie feels Richie tremble. A wicked idea starts to form in Eddie's brain.
“Any one of them could look in here and see you like this,” Eddie breathes into Richie’s neck. Richie makes a little noise and Eddie goes on. “All marked up. A minute away from coming in your pants.”
“Fuck, Eddie.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If one of them saw?” Eddie punctuates the question by tugging down the zipper of Richie’s pants.
Richie doesn’t answer, just rocks forward, looking for friction and finding none.
The voices are right next to the door now and Eddie begins to see their shadows momentarily blotting out the hallway light.
“Quiet, now,” Eddie breathes, finally getting a hand on Richie’s dick and giving it a few experimental strokes.
Richie inhales sharply through his nose and Eddie knows how much he’s holding himself back—he’s always the more vocal of the two of them, spouting out dirty talk that makes even Eddie blush.
Now, though, with a group of strangers just an open door away, Richie is doing everything he can to not cry out. All because of Eddie’s hand on his dick. It’s fucking hot is what it is.
Eddie smears Richie’s precome across his palm and that makes the slide a little bit smoother. Eddie’s hand picks up the pace; he doesn’t dare get on his knees when there are people so close because he knows that’ll make Richie talk, but he can do this, can keep Richie on edge.
They’re right next to the door now, and it’s like they could be in the room with them.
One of the strangers says something and another one laughs and apparently Eddie had been keeping Richie a bit too close to the edge because he pitches forward suddenly and buries his face into Eddie’s neck to hide a gasp as he comes, spilling all over Eddie’s hand.
“Oh my god,” Eddie says faintly. The voices grow quieter by the second.
Richie laughs breathily. “Sorry. Knew you wanted to blow me.”
Eddie unceremoniously wipes come onto Richie’s underwear before tugging them back up. “That was before I knew you’d come like a fucking teenager who just discovered jerking off when you heard people right outside the door.”
“Hey,” Richie protests weakly.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Eddie grins and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of Richie’s mouth. Eddie moves to lean back, but Richie doesn’t let him and deepens the kiss briefly instead.
“Come back to my room,” Richie says. “I want to take you apart.”
Eddie shivers because fuck yes.
“You gonna come in under a minute again?” Eddie asks, because he’s an asshole and Richie makes it so easy.
Richie groans. “You’re never gonna let me live this down.”
“Nope,” Eddie replies, popping the “p”.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Richie says with a long-suffering sigh.
Eddie just grins and shoves Richie backward. “C’mon, asshole. I want you to fuck me before I die of old age."
"Your wish, my darling," Richie says in his stupid British guy voice, "is my command."