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“Show me.”
“Pardon?”
Richie’s not sure how the conversation got brought up, sitting pantless in his underwear with Eddie on the floor of his studio apartment.
It’s sweltering outside, the middle of August in Southern California, and they’re sitting in front of Richie’s window AC unit, shirtless and in boxers.
The guy had come down to visit for the week, since he and his girlfriend broke up recently.
And thank god they did too, aside from Richie’s big fat crush on Eddie, he also thought the woman was a giant prick. So it’s a win-win, really.
And another potential win followed shortly after. Eddie had come out to their friend group that same day, a text after saying his relationship was over.
But right now, Richie’s not sure how they got here, with Eddie begging, demanding really to watch him jerk off.
“No, c’mon, you talked all that game about how I’m such a virgin and I don’t know what I’m talking about so, yeah, fucker, show me,” Eddie challenges, scooting closer so their bare knees touch each other.
Well, that much was true, Richie had just been making fun, saying that Eddie would probably perpetually be sex-less, bound to virginity. But he was just talking shit, teasing the guy to have something to do.
“I’m not saying you don’t know how to jerk it,” Richie finds himself grasping for straws, to change the subject in its entirety, “‘M sure you do that plenty.”
“I don’t,” Eddie urges again, arms crossed as he insists, “And I bet we don’t even get off the same so, show me, asshole. Unless you’re too much of a pussy.”
“There’s only a couple ways you can get off,” he’s grumbling, annoyed that this conversation is not going the way he planned, “How do you do it, then?”
“Nope! I’ll show you if you show me first,” Eddie huffs, stonewalling him, “Since you wanna talk so big.”
Richie can’t believe he’s actually considering it, because really, it’s a horrendous idea. Jerk off in front of the dude he’s been fantasizing about since the 6th grade? And not confess his undying love?
“I don’t know, you don’t think that’s a little..?” Richie trails off, shifting where he’s sat on the floor uncomfortably.
“Gay?” Eddie asks for him, brazen as always, “Who fuckin’ cares? I like men and so do you. Besides, we’re friends.”
“Right, Eddie, bud, friends don’t jerk off in front of each other,” the response is mumbled and low, pointed more at the floor than anything.
“To be fair, Rich, bud,” he mocks right back, dropping a hand to trace over a bony knee bone, meeting dark eyes with light ones, “Not sure how friendly we are these days.”
“Huh?” The word tumbles out, clunky and stupid. Richie feels like he’s breaking out into a sweat in front of this air conditioner.
“Not that I don’t love hanging out with you, trust me I do,” Eddie continues, drawing slow circles from the knee up the hairy thigh. Wide eyes watch the movement with baited breath, unable to break away.
A clear of the throat and then, “It’s just, Y’know, we treat each other different is all.”
Richie shakes his head slowly, trying to break out of his stupor, mouth partially hanging open. He swallows before speaking up finally, “I don’t follow.”
“I mean, c’mon man think about it. I break up with my girlfriend, come out and then fly to see you the next week? That doesn’t seem a little suspicious?” Eddie’s pressing now, pushing a short finger into the meat of the thigh underneath him. It starts to sting but he can’t seem to move away from it.
“No?” Richie whispers, more like a plea as any anger or frustration he may have had begins to morph into something more sinister, panicked. He has to look away from the intense, unblinking gaze, opting to turn his attention to a spot on the floor.
“Richie. Look at me,” Eddie demands but his tone is anything but harsh, shifting the hand to hold his leg delicately, “You picked me up at the airport with flowers.”
“They were a welcome gift,” the protest is weak, flimsy even.
Richie knew it was a stretch in the Trader Joe’s check-out line with his assortment of handpicked flowers, after painstakingly picking them out based on what color palette Eddie would like.
“You text me good morning and good night every single day,” another fair point from Eddie, considering he’s notoriously horrendous at texting back. Especially when he’s knee-deep in comedy gigs and improv shows, like he has been this year.
“So? You always respond!” Richie still finds himself protesting, horrified that the other man is bordering on confessing something he thought both of them decided long ago to tuck away, keep hidden.
“That’s what I’m saying dude,” Eddie’s urging, shifting his weight to scoot impossibly closer, leaning into Richie’s space, “You call me like pet names and shit, and you’re always asking me how I’m doing-“
“Wh-Hey! That’s ’cuz one, it pisses you off and two, because I’m considerate,” He counters, leaning back just a hair to give himself some breathing room.
“Yeah, real considerate,” the answer comes out in a scoff, “That’s boyfriend bullshit and you know it.”
“No the fuck it isn’t!” Richie’s raising his voice now, eyebrows drawing together, defense now and fear spreads through him.
The adrenaline of being caught or seen despite how hard he’s tried to keep it hidden blooms in his chest, trickling down his body as pins and needles internally prick his fingertips.
“Yes the fuck it is! You literally have a list in your notes app right now of what I like and don’t like. I’ve fucking seen it,” an accusatory finger is being pointed in his face, Eddie’s volume elevating to reach his own.
“Oh my god, excuse me for being a good ass friend!” Richie bites back, swatting the finger away.
“Jesus fucking Christ, alright, then how ‘bout this?” Eddie relents, sitting back with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair before crossing his arms, gaze softening as he speaks up again, “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“What?” The fight dies from his chest, gulping out of nervousness.
“Tell me I made the whole thing up in my head and I’ll drop it, I won’t ever bring it up again,” The other man urges once more, but he doesn’t seem as fired up anymore. If anything, his tone is reserved and disappointed.
“Eddie, I-“
“And if you can’t say anything right now it’s fine. We can have a cool friend hang out for the rest of the week. But I will wait until you say something, I won’t try to date or whatever.”
Richie can hardly believe what he’s hearing, suddenly feeling insecure as he sits there, skin exposed. He moves to cover his chest, crossing his arms as he denies, “You’re not serious.”
“When have I lied to you?” Is the honest, whispered response and Eddie’s wide eyes haven’t moved away from his face, that mournful gaze tugging at Richie’s heart.
“Just- Why? Why would you do that for me?” He matches the volume of the other man, voice dropping low. Tears prick at the back of his eyes, throat tightening as the realization creeps in.
“Don’t make me say it,” Eddie mutters, and it sounds as if he’s about to cry, voice soft and scared, “I think you already know. You’re not stupid, Richie.”
“You’re being an asshole,” He tries to reason, to grapple for any other explanation. The idea that Eddie might be serious is so terrifying, so real that he can’t even begin to wrap his head around it.
“I’m not,” the response comes out strained and tight, and the other man breaks eye contact, clearing his throat before continuing, “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth.”
Richie doesn’t say anything else, lip quivering unconsciously at the unsaid confession. All this time. All this fucking time.
He shoots forward, both hands cupping Eddie’s face, and pulls the other man into a kiss.
And for just a moment, Eddie can’t move, can’t breathe, hands frozen in their place.
There was something in the way Richie kissed him that had him weak, scraping for any hint of more. Eddie had never felt anything so sacred in his life before. It was as if the other man was trying to memorize the shape of his lips. As if he was trying to drink in Eddie’s last breath.
Then, his hands settle to fall, resting carefully on hairy thighs, gently as if not to startle.
One of the hands cupping the side of his face moves to hold the back of his neck and the kiss deepens. Eddie’s grip tightens on the legs in his grasp, tilting his head just a hair for better access.
They kiss like that, sweet and slow, for longer than Eddie can keep track of, lips naturally falling into an easy pattern. As if they’ve done this countless times before.
God, he can’t wait to kiss this man over and over, in a million different places. Hopefully for the rest of his life, if he’s allowed.
It’s Richie who pulls away first, wiping a stray pool of wet from the corner of Eddie’s eyes with his thumb. It’s not a tear but pretty close, boarding on it.
Richie’s heart squeezes, gooey smile dancing across his face in delight. Leaning forward again, he plants a few quick, loud kisses that make an obnoxious smacking sound. Eddie keeps his lips pursed and eyes shut to accept them, but can’t stop himself from giggling quietly.
When Richie pulls back this time, his eyes scan over Eddie’s entire face, stroking his cheekbone with a bony thumb. The other man leans into it, smiling so saccharine that it makes his teeth hurt.
“Come to my bed,” Richie asks, even though they both know the answer, “We can roll around and kiss and I’ll order us something to eat for afterwards.”
“Mmm,” Eddie hums, “Yeah, okay, take me to bed.”
“Yeah?” Is the response, breathy and unbelieving, “What kinda grub you in the mood for?”
“Uhmmm,” another hum, this time in consideration. Eddie’s eyes slip shut, allowing his head to be held up by Richie hand, “I like something heavy after I.. you know. Like a big fat ass grinder or somethin’.”
“After you cum?” Richie supplies helpfully, laughing at the way Eddie’s nose crinkles in disgust, “Y’know they don’t call ‘em grinders out here? It’s a sub.”
“Ew, Richie,” he complains, like the other man has anything to do with sandwich descriptions, “That does sound good though. You wanna do that? Sandwich, chips and something fizzy?”
“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” is the sincere whisper back, and Richie can’t help but lean forward to press another chaste kiss, this time to Eddie’s forehead.
“Sap,” Eddie mumbles as if he’s embarrassed, but his smile betrays him, sentimental and delicate.
“Oh honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Richie promises, pinching the cheek in his grasp fondly, “You thought I was bad before? I’m about to ‘boyfriend’ the fuck outta you.”
“Swear it?” The question is quiet and vulnerable, Eddie running his nails lightly along Richie’s thighs.
“Baby,” Richie practically purrs back, breath hitching at the sudden stimulation. He leans in to press a searing kiss into the other man, biting at that pouty bottom lip before leaning back to whisper, “You don’t know how much I like you, do you?”
“You don’t know how much I like you,” Eddie counters, chasing the lips as they pull away. It sounds almost like a threat the way he says it, and Richie can’t help but shiver. Drawn together by some outside force, their lips come together again, this time with more urgency.
A hand fists itself into his curls, tugging and Richie gasps into the other man’s mouth, hands flying to grab wherever he can. Eddie’s other free hand lands on his hip, squeezing gently and he has to make a conscious effort not to buck into the pressure.
His own hands are placed haphazardly on Eddie’s body, one gripping the back of his neck and the other holding a strong thigh.
Unable to help themselves, they’re kissing frantically, panting, moaning softly into each other. One of Eddie’s hands starts to wander, settling just over Richie’s cock.
He tugs Eddie off by his hair, squinting to look over the devious grin that’s spreading across the other man’s face.
“Weren’t we supposed to go do this somewhere else?” Richie asks, though not moving the hand off of him.
“Yeah but,” Eddie cuts himself off with a hum, wrapping his hand around the clothed dick fattening up nicely in his grasp, “C’mon Rich, let me make you feel good. Then we can move. Please?”
His dark eyes flick up to meet Richie’s, expression serious and solemn and what’s a guy to do? Say no?
“Fine,” he finds himself agreeing all too easily, pressing into the grip around him, “But you’re gonna show me how you get off when we get in there.”
“You gonna talk me through it?” Eddie whispers, leaning back to get a good look as he starts to move his hand over the cock straining against suddenly tight boxers.
“‘Course,” Richie manages, face growing hot under the intense gaze. There was something about the other man that always had him a little on edge, nervous. Maybe it was the soul-consuming crush.
Still, he continues, forever unable to stop himself from bantering with Eddie, “You gonna talk me through it?”
“Hoping to do a bit more than that. C’mon, take these off, I got an idea,” there’s a tug to his boxers and the hand pulls away. A flare of shame shoots through him, because he’s about to be bare ass naked in front of this guy for the first time.
He just really likes Eddie so much that the idea of him not finding any part of his body attractive is horrifying and a true insecurity.
But the other man is surprisingly perceptive and seems to pick up on the shift in energy, tilting his head before asking, “Want me to take mine off too? So we’re even?”
“You’re really willing to get naked on the floor with me?” Richie deflects, because the sentiment of the two of them being equally as vulnerable is too much for his heart.
“Rich,” Eddie’s voice drops low, thumbs now hooked in his own underwear as he sits up on his knees to take them off, “Take your fuckin’ dick out so I touch it.”
“Jesus,” he whines, hurriedly sitting up to comply. Any insecurity he may have previously had melts away.
True to his word, Eddie’s hand is back on him the minute his cock is free. Richie gasps in pleasure at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut.
“Here’s my idea,” the man in front of him begins, calm and collected, “You hold my hand while I touch you. Like, ya know, move it the way you would when jerking off.”
“You want me to hold your wrist?” Richie asks for clarification, brain foggy and confused, unable to follow with that petite hand holding his cock so delicately.
Eddie shakes his head and mutters, “No, look, here.”
He takes Richie’s hand and puts it over his own, covering it so they’re both holding the dick the same way, “Now move like you would normally.”
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he whines, starting up a slow, grueling pace to test it out, “Like I’m teaching you or something.”
“Sure, yeah, I like that,” Eddie enthusiastically encourages, letting Richie move his hand however he pleases, “Show me how to make you feel good.”
Then, he’s covering Richie’s eyes with his free hand and spitting a fat gob of saliva over their joined hands.
“Did you just spit on my dick?” Richie asks, punched out and on edge already, stopping the movement entirely.
“Mhm, to make it feel better,” is the response, innocent and sweet sounding. The hand drops from his eyes and Eddie’s looking at him, almost bashful.
Richie can’t help himself, leaning in to kiss him again.
This time, he lets his tongue run along that thin bottom lip, a rack of trembles running through his body at the noise it coaxes from Eddie.
“Fuck,” Richie breaks the kiss, whining the curse against his lips with urgency, suddenly sounding winded, “Sorry, I just-“
He cuts himself off to moan again when the hand wrapped around him begins to move. Richie’s head falls forward, knocking gently into Eddie’s.
Their foreheads are pressed together when he finally composes himself, whispering an apology of, “Sorry, just can’t believe your hand is actually on my cock.”
Eddie can’t help but laugh and they’re so close it dances along his own lips, drawing him into another languid kiss.
Richie picks the pace up, moving their hands on him quicker and it rips a wanting moan from Eddie’s throat.
“So big, I can hardly wrap my whole hand around it,” he’s whining against the other man’s lips, then, “Is this how you do it? When you’re alone?”
“Uh huh,” Richie sighs out, the words mumbles against Eddie with how close they are to each other.
“What do you normally think about?” Eddie’s asking with a tilt to his head, with asking in feigned ignorance, but Richie knows better. Knows he’s been caught.
He opens his eyes and sits back the best he can, slowing the hands on his cock down, “Like you don’t know.”
In return, he’s offered a sly, barely there smile, and a passive shrug of, “Just wanted to see what you’d say.”
“You, ‘course,” Richie confirms but they both knew the answer anyway, and it earns him a biting kiss, grip around his dick tightening.
Whining into Eddie’s mouth, he starts to pick up the pace, pressure in his abdomen tightening up steadily.
Then, “Wait, stop,” Eddie puffs out and Richie freezes in his tracks, strokes halting completely. The smaller hand begins wriggling his fingers against the one holding him and demands, “Let go. And go sit against the wall.”
He had been so fucking close, really right on the edge. But nevertheless, Eddie said stop so he had to.
Even now, Richie scrambles to obey, sitting flat against his living room wall, allowing his legs to fall open for Eddie to crawl between.
“I really like how quick you listened Richie, that was so good,” Eddie’s praising, low against his ear once settled, his pointer and middle finger coming up to press against his waiting, parted lips, “Open up.”
“‘R you gonna put ‘em in me?” Richie hears himself ask, unable to stop the hopeful words from tumbling out. It’s rare for a guy to want his lanky ass to bottom, but it’s been a guilty pleasure since losing his virginity.
“That wasn’t part of the plan,” is the reply, an honest confession that has Richie feeling silly for bringing it up. But Eddie’s not done talking, free hand coming down to squeeze at his right asscheek, massaging there while he says, “I was gonna jerk you off and take you to bed, maybe play rock, paper scissors for who bottoms.”
The prospect of leaving the choice up to chance is strangely exciting. But the other man still has something to say, pushing the fingers past his wet, trembling lips, “However, you sounded so sweet asking just now, I think we can skip that last part, yeah?”
Richie thinks to say no, just to make a joke of losing on purpose. But then, he closes his mouth around the fingers inching towards the back of his throat and all that comes out is a desperate moan.
Eddie clicks his tongue, sitting back to watch his own fingers slip in and out of Richie’s open mouth. The hand on his ass snakes up that long body, coming up to cup his jaw with a tight grip.
The digits hit the back of Richie’s throat and he nearly chokes, eyes watering as can’t look away from the man in between his knees. A thumb on the hand holding his face harshly starts to rub at his jawbone, delicate and out of place.
“I can’t fucking wait,” Eddie speaks up, urging and desperate, “To shove this big mouth into a pillow once and for all and shut you up.”
Heat blooms through his chest, cock twitching in arousal and Richie can’t hold it in, whining like a plea, as if he’s begging already around Eddie’s fingers.
They slip out of his mouth, hand on his jaw releasing him with a gentle pat to the cheek. Then, those spit-soaked fingers are wrapping around his aching cock, moving over him rapidly.
It’s faster than he normally jerks himself off and Richie’s brain can’t keep up, only able to claw at Eddie’s sun-kissed, freckled shoulders desperately.
The man’s pressing needy, sloppy kisses to the column of his neck, whispering soft and sweet encouragements against the heated skin.
“Weren’t you supposed to be teaching me how to make you feel good?” Eddie teases after a particularly humiliating, high moan and Richie feels his face grow hot in embarrassment.
All that shit he had been talking an hour or so ago about Eddie being a virgin and here he is, pressed flat against the wall and aching to be railed by the guy.
“Yer a fast learner?” Richie tries to reason, pathetically, forehead falling to rest on Eddie’s shoulder as he gets worked over with ease, thighs shaking.
“Sure, Rich,” the answer is whispered into his skin, the pace of the grip on his dick never breaking stride. Christ, if Eddie can fist a cock like this, what’s he fuck like?
“‘M close, Eddie,” he whines, hips twitching up into the hand working him over, head falling back to knock into the wall. There’s a dull ache there but Richie couldn’t care less, clawing at Eddie’s arm as he gets jerked off.
“Can’t wait to hear you say my name like that when you’re on your back, taking it,” the heated promise is hissed into his ear and Richie gasps out a choked, “Jesus.”
His stomach clenches, and the feeling sneaks up on him, rushing out all at once. With trembling thighs and a punched-out whine rips from the back of his throat. Richie spills over Eddie’s fist, coating his hand in it.
“There ya go,” the encouragement is whispered against his jaw as he shakes through the aftershocks, hips kicking up and away from the feeling at the same time, “So pretty, Rich.”
A breathless laugh escapes him, squirming under the touch. Eventually, Eddie relents and lets go, giving him a sweet kiss to his temple as he does. They don’t move immediately, awkwardly holding each other on Richie’s hardwood living room floor.
It’s Eddie who speaks up first, saying, “If you want, I can clean up out here real quick and then join you in the bedroom?”
“Okay,” Richie finds himself agreeing easily, brain mushed and numb, “Let me just get my sea legs first.”
His ole Maritimer impression makes Eddie giggle the way it always does, and he can’t help but laugh along.
Around ten minutes later, Richie’s trudging to his own bedroom, falling backwards onto his queen bed.
He curls up with a comforter his mother was gifted one Christmas that she didn’t like. She says it’s far too heavy, too warm for her to get a peaceful night’s rest. Richie disagrees, likes the secure, firm feeling of a weighted blanket holding him down.
There’s something to be said about him there that he chooses to ignore, waiting instead for his newfound man to come and do the holding down.
Eddie might not look it, but he’s surprisingly strong, having worked out every other day since moving out of his mothers.
Speaking of the man, he’s back, with a glass of some unknown cold liquid.
Gently placing the glass on the bedside table, Richie hears his click his tongue and ask, “Don’t you own a single coaster?”
“Nah, guess you’re gonna have to buy one for me, Mr. 401k,” he teases back easily, without evening opening his eyes. Richie allows his head to be tilted up, delicate hand gripping his chin to pull him into a soft kiss.
When Eddie pulls away, he smiles, rubbing along Richie’s jawbone, “Sure, just pick a set out and send me the link.”
The small display of power has his dick twitching with interest again. It’s not like Richie isn’t making money, he is, it’s just that Eddie makes more.
He’s fucked, for sure, probably for the rest of his life even if this relationship goes up in flames.
“Now you’re really trying to seduce me,” Richie jokes, watching with hungry eyes as Eddie slides in bed next to him.
“Not so sure I have to do much trying,” Eddie teases, opening his arms up, beckoning for the other man to crawl into them. Richie complies, without a second thought, melting into the quiet embrace.
Eddie grabs his phone from the nightstand, about to pull up some silly video for them to watch before he’s stopped by Richie, who grabs his wrist lightly.
“Hey,” he protests, moving one leg to rest over one of Eddie’s, “I wanted to see you get off too.”
The blunt comment has Eddie laughing softly but he gives in, relinquishing his phone and agreeing, almost too easily, “Alright. But you have to lay on your back.”
Richie scrambles to get into position, unsure of what exactly they’re about to do but excited nonetheless.
Then, Eddie’s crawling on top of him, straddling Richie’s right thigh and settling back down, his full body resting comfortably on top.
Goosebumps prick up across Richie’s arms when he feels a warm nose press into his neck and breath in. Hot puffs of air against his throat have him getting worked up all over again, like a fuckin’ teenager and Richie can’t help but feel a little pathetic.
But he doesn’t have time to feel sorry for himself because gentle, slow, open-mouthed kisses are being pressed into his skin, and Eddie starts moving his hips in careful, barely-there circles.
Every nerve in Richie’s body lights up, jolting as he realizes that he’s being used to get off.
He moves his hands to lightly scratch up and down Eddie’s back, tilting his head up to allow for better access.
For his efforts, Richie’s rewarded with a hesitant bite, experimental, to see how he’d react. The sharp contrast of teeth pressing into his skin and the velvety tongue that follows has him moaning quietly, into Eddie’s ear.
“So,” he mumbles through a breathless gasp, lifting his thigh up ever so slightly to press into the hard cock rocking against it, “this is what you meant earlier? When you said you bet we don’t even get off the same?”
“Yeah,” Eddie confirms and fuck he sounds wrecked already, desperately whispering against newly marked up skin, “Thought it was- fuck- dirty to touch myself but you know, hormones.”
“‘S so hot, I can feel you leaking against my leg,” Richie’s encouraging, enthusiastic and he presses his nails harder into Eddie’s back, raking them up his shoulder blades.
The man on top of him whines at the feeling, rocking down faster, and Richie turns his head to puff in his ear, “That’s it Eddie, keep going. It feel good for you sweetheart?”
“Mhm,” Eddie manages, hips twitching after a particularly hard thrust and his forehead falls to press against the juncture of Richie’s shoulder and neck.
He’s mouthing at the skin there, nipping and biting before confessing, “So much better than it is on my own, so warm.”
What Richie can’t help but notice, as Eddie’s other thigh comes dangerously close to press firmly against his balls, is how the man’s pace hasn’t faltered once.
“God, you’re gonna ruin me later,” Richie confesses and it rips a groan from the back of Eddie’s throat. The man is sitting up to lean over him, meeting eyes as he rocks steadily against Richie’s thigh. A hand comes up to thread into the wild curls splayed out haphazardly across powder blue cotton sheets before pulling, hard.
Eddie scans Richie’s face, lips quirking up when the man’s mouth falls open to moan at the rough treatment. A breathless laugh escapes Eddie and he leans down, bringing the taller man into a brutal, biting kiss.
Their lips smash together, and a half circle thrust down onto Richie’s thigh has a rough, choked grunt coming from the back of Eddie’s throat.
As the man rides out the aftershocks their kisses morph into something sweeter, more sensual. The harsh grip on Richie’s curls breaks away, a delicate touch replacing it, running through his hair like he’s something to be treasured.
Then, Eddie’s fully collapsing on top of him, breaking the kiss to snuggle up into his neck.
Distantly, Richie’s aware that the mess on his leg will start to feel real gross in a few minutes but he can’t seem to care right now.
They’re silent for a few breaths, chests heaving and Eddie presses one chaste, quick smooch to Richie’s jawbone.
The first thing to come out of Eddie’s mouth is a huff, followed by a whiny, pouty-sounding, “I want sandwich.”
It makes Richie belly laugh as he gently connects the freckle constellations on Eddie’s back, letting his nails drag slightly.
“I don’t even know where my phone is,” he confesses and watches, amused, out of the corner of his eye as the man on top of him blindly feels around for his own cellular device. He gets it eventually, slapping it onto Richie’s bare chest before going limp again.
“What, you want me to pick?”
“You live here. I don’t know what’s good. I’ll pay for it,” Eddie explains, waving his hand dismissively without opening his eyes.
“Are you sure? I don’t care to buy,” Richie mumbles down at the lump refusing to move on top of him. When all he gets is an affirmative grunt in response, he can’t help but laugh again, poking at his head, “Lazy.”
“Be nice to me, all my brain just leaked out,” the tired man mumbles, rubbing his forehead affectionately against Richie’s throat.
The taller man is opening up Grubhub as he snickers, irritatingly adding on, “Brain leaked out your diihh.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Eddie pleads, reaching up with shut eyes to smoosh a hand over Richie’s face in a feeble attempt to cover the guy’s mouth.
In retaliation, a fat stripe is licked across his sweaty palm. Eddie shouts a dramatic, “Ewww!” in disgust and has to fight back a smile at the delighted cackle it produces from the man under him.
Wiping his slimy hand on a pec below him, Eddie huffs and keeps his hand there. He pauses, allowing Richie to look a few menus over before the boredom overtakes him and he must move.
With a careful, sneaky hand, he brushes his palm over a powder pink, pert nipple, glancing up to see if the other man would react.
When he gets nothing, he begins to trace the areola with a light, barely there touch. A quick inhale from the man below him spurs Eddie on, and he grabs the nipple with his thumb and pointer finger, pinching at it gently
“Quit distractin’ me,” Richie protests, but it comes out in more of a whine, feebly attempting to squirm away from the touch.
“What, you sensitive or something?” Eddie teases, rolling the ball of his thumb to stimulate there more, delighting in the way the other man’s body arches up into him.
“You know I am,” is the response, almost bitter and it makes him laugh softly. It’s the truth, Eddie does know, because it’s one of the only things their friend group can make fun of Richie for that he actually gets embarrassed about.
When they were younger, swimming together in perpetually chilly lakes no matter how hot it was outside, Richie would always complain, even if just for a moment, when his chest got wet.
“Bet I could get you off like this,” the words come out as a threat but Eddie really means it as more of a promise, whispering low.
Richie sucks another breath in, wanting nothing more than to concede and let the other man do what he wants. But, they did have some mighty tempting plans later, so instead he responds with, “Bet you could, but you shouldn’t because I’ll be too tired to go again later.”
A hum of consideration vibrates the side of Richie’s neck, and then Eddie’s kissing there again, once, twice, “You think? I don’t know, I feel like I could get you going again,” and another kiss is smacked on the end of his sentence, for good measure.
Richie wants to be annoyed but he really can’t find it in himself. None of his past significant others or hookups were this obsessed with feeling him up. Plus, this is Eddie they’re talking about, his longtime dream guy.
Instead, he huffs, shifting against the bed to get some distance between his junk and Eddie’s knee, which seems to be inching closer.
It just makes the man on top of him chuckle softly, as if this is all apart of some game of chase that he didn’t exactly sign up for. Richie turns to whisper into the other man’s mussed up hair, kissing once before accusing, “Are you like this because we just started fooling around or are you just kinda horny and repressed?”
“The second one. And you’re hot. Let me put it in my mouth,” Eddie surmises all at once, pinching and pulling at the nipple in his grasp. It’s enough to have Richie’s dick twitching for attention again, and he realizes he really needs to calm down before this goes any further.
“Jesus,” is the breathy response he can manage, whining into Eddie’s hair with squeezed shut eyes, “my chest or my dick?”
“Either,” the answer comes out bluntly, and a tongue is running up the side of his throat again. Eddie ends up at a spot just underneath his jawline, sucking a bit of skin in before murmuring against it, “Both?”
The sharpness of teeth against his neck has Richie moaning softly again, and he pushes at Eddie’s shoulders gently. The other man gets the hit, laughing softly as he sits back, still rubbing at his nipple slowly.
Richie ends up whining in protest, “Eddie, c’mon, put your order in and watch a stupid video with me,” he’s begging, but he doesn’t care.
“Fine,” Eddie finally gives in, releasing his hold on Richie’s chest. The man sits up to look down at his boyfriend, considering for a moment before leaning down to plant an out of place sweet kiss to his lips, “But we’re kissing and then watching a stupid video.”
“Fine,” Richie concedes, matching Eddie’s tone in a higher, more nasally pitch. A middle finger is thrown his way for the teasing, but the man sticks to his word, looking over the menu of some local deli that Richie’s picked out for them.
After a few moments of silent choosing, Eddie’s handing the phone back to Richie to look everything over before sending the order out. He watches his now-boyfriend turn the ringer to the phone on, setting it aside in case they end up getting distracted.
Once the device is out of Richie’s hands, Eddie’s pouncing on him again, moving both legs to settle in between the open thighs of the man below him, bringing him into a scalding kiss. Their lips meld together effortlessly, naturally, as if they were made to only love one another. And maybe they were.
Eddie’s no scientist or philosopher but he’s sure that he’s had the burning urge to kiss this man in every universe across every timeline. He wonders absently, as their lips fall in a routine rhythm to drag against each other, if it’s too soon to tell Richie that he loves him. That he’s sick with it, that it’s all he can ever think about sometimes.
When a careful, tender thumb comes up to brush against his jawbone, and Richie lets out a content sigh into the kiss, Eddie knows he’s not alone in the feeling.
It feels like seconds and hours all at once, pressed against each other, needy lips moving in sync. Even as his jaw begins to get sore, Eddie doesn’t want to stop, only breaking away to get a puff of air. He means to dive back in, but then those clear, bright eyes are squinting up at him, and he loses all train of thought.
Unconsciously, a smile creeps up and under Richie’s questioning gaze, Eddie feels the rays of a thousand suns across a thousand different days.
“What?” The man below him breaths out, panting softly to get more air back into his lungs after it had all been kissed out of him. Eddie could weep at the question, as if Richie doesn’t have any clue how magnificent he really is.
But he can’t force himself to say any of that, feeling like the words scrawled out on one of their friend Ben’s ridiculous poems. Instead, he shrugs and forces himself to breathe a shaky stream of air in as he replies passively, “Nothin’, I just like you.”
The confession warms Richie right up, and he can’t stop himself from beaming up at the man on top of him. With a quiet, puff of a laugh he returns the sentiment, looking across the man’s face as he urges back softly, “I like you too, baby.”
The words are simple enough but they satisfy some urge deep within Eddie, who leans down to press all the love he can into another kiss.
Distantly, he hears his phone ping and Richie’s moving to hold him by the jaw, pulling Eddie back that way so he can check the notification.
“Foods on the way,” The man under him speaks up after a moment, “You wanna watch something now?”
Now that he’s been forced to take a step back and stop, Eddie can feel the grime, sweat and dried cum caked to his body. With disgust, he grimaces and shakes his head, “I might take a quick shower, actually.”
“Oh! That’s a good idea, I might hop in after you,” Richie adds on, petting down messy chestnut hair that seems to be sticking up in every direction.
“Or you could join me?” Eddie suggests hopefully, frowning when his boyfriend shakes his head in denial.
“No, because then we’ll have sex again for sure,” is the honestly very reasonable response, but it doesn’t make him any less disappointed. Now that they’re together, Eddie wants everything, every second he can get before he has to go back to his half empty New York studio.
“Since when did you become a party pooper?” He mumbles, resoundingly bitter against the side of Richie’s face, but it just makes the other guy chuckle in amusement.
“And when did you become such a horndog?” Richie teases right back, snickering at the look on Eddie’s face.
Reluctantly, he sits up, away from his cozy spot on top of his boyfriend. Despite it being mid-August and damn near 100 degrees outside, Eddie can’t help but feel cold from the loss.
He presses at least four more smooches to Richie’s forehead, sweaty curls, and nose before slipping off the bed.
“I’ll be right back,” he promises, as if Richie’s worried that he’ll be gone forever.
“I’ll be right here,” is the honest whisper he gets in return, and Eddie sighs, slipping out of the room to wash his body off. In the shower, the situation he’s in fully hits him.
He’s in the home of one of his childhood best friends, naked in his shower after finally sort of confessing how he feels. The anticipation of being able to go all the way in a few short hours has his dick calling for attention, but he wills the feeling to go away and ignores it.
A semi-cold shower later, he’s out and back to Richie, who’s got his own towel and fresh underwear ready for his turn. They kiss against the bathroom door as they switch, Eddie giggling against Richie’s lips as he feels the cool wood press against his back.
Maybe tomorrow, he’ll let the taller man take him against some random surface in the house, or bent over a countertop.
Eddie’s playing on his phone when Richie comes out of the bathroom, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“Why are you wearing all that?” He questions, almost annoyed at the sight. After all, it’s just more he has to take off to get the guy naked again in a few hours.
“Well, sweetheart, someone has to get the food,” Richie explains, gesturing to Eddie’s lack of clothes. He’d put on a clean pair of briefs, but that’s about it, forgetting completely that they’d have to interact with a delivery driver at all.
“Oh, true,” Eddie concedes, brain too mushed up with love to really argue right now. He reaches out to Richie, grabbing at empty air in a silent plea to get the man to come closer.
“Noooo, he’s almost here, if I go over there I’m not getting up,” the explanation doesn’t do much else but piss Eddie off, and he’s sitting up to crawl on the bed, to get closer to where Richie’s standing.
“I just want to hold you, asshole,” he counters, sitting up on his knees at the corner of the mattress, smiling victoriously when Richie gives in with a soft smile.
“So needy,” the teasing words are pointing down to Eddie’s hair as he hugs the lanky man in the middle, pressing his face to his chest. He wants to bite back with something rude, but the thought never comes and instead, he’s rubbing his head back and forth.
“Never actually dated someone I was into,” Eddie confesses in a whisper, and the words have Richie fawning over him, wrapping him up in those long, lean arms.
“God, you’re so cute,” Richie’s urging, kissing the top of his head as he holds the shorter man tightly, “You better be careful Eddie, or I’m gonna keep you here.”
“What about my stuff in New York?” He questions innocently, but the threat has him grinning big and wide against Richie’s chest. Really, Eddie would love nothing more than an excuse to run away from it all, especially if it meant living with the love of his life.
“Fuck your stuff in New York, we’ll buy you new stuff,” is the unreasonable, brash answer, and a hand scoops under his jaw to lift his head up. Richie leans down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, almost in a promise.
When they pull back, Eddie giggles sweetly against the puffy lips against him, asking, “How mad would our friends be if I came to visit and completely u-hauled it?’
“They’d definitely have some choice words, I can hear Stan now,” Richie laughs at the idea, not because the prospect is funny, but the reactions would certainly be. He raises the pitch of his voice to do a semi-decent impression of their shared friend Stanley, imitating, “God Richie, don’t you two ever think? You can’t just move in with a guy because you slept with him.”
Eddie’s heart squeezes at the idea that Richie’s being this sweet because they’re being intimate. But before he can let the thoughts fester in his mind, his boyfriend is leaning down to kiss his forehead, whispering against it, “But he’d be wrong, obviously, I’d be this obsessed with you even if we didn’t ever do anything.”
The reassurance washes a calming, cool wave of hope over him and then, reluctantly, Richie is pulling away.
He snickers at the forlorn look that passes over Eddie’s face and pulls him to stand up, “C’mon, the food’s here and I'm sure you don’t want to eat on the bed.”
And Richie would be right, because the idea of crumbs of bread, meat and cheese on crisp, clean sheets has his skin crawling. He patters slowly into the kitchen, shuffling to the tiny table Richie has set up in the back corner to eat on. The thing only has two chairs, which is perfect for him and one other person, but not very well suited for extra company. Eddie thinks about where a full kitchen table could go if he ever moved in as he waits for Richie to bring their meal over.
They eat in comfortable silence, a video of a shared interest playing for background noise as they chew.
The food is good, but Eddie can’t help but think of being pressed up close in bed again, naked with the man by his side. The urge intensifies when he feels a clothed sock press against his own, the heat of Richie’s body radiating through. Of course, a good fuck isn’t all he wants out of Richie. He realizes with a jolt that he never said it back earlier, opening his mouth to do so.
“You know I’d-”
“Hey, do you think-”
They start talking at the same time and it makes Eddie laugh softly, happy that he’s not the only one stewing away in his own thoughts.
“You go first,” Richie offers, popping a kettle-cooked chip into his mouth to chop on as he listens.
“Oh, I was just gonna say, I’d be obsessed with you too, if we never did anything. I didn’t say it back earlier and I don’t want you to think that’s all I want from you. Because it’s not,” Eddie’s rambling but he doesn’t care because Richie’s looking at him as if he’s hung up the stars. For his little rant, he gets a soft, almost watery smile and Richie’s reaching out to hold his hand, “I know, but thank you for saying it.”
Eddie feels warm all over, squeezing the hand he’s holding before looking away bashfully, mumbling towards his half-eaten sandwich, “Yeah whatever, what were you gonna say?”
“Oh!” Richie exclaims, sitting up straight and his cheeks look like they’re growing pinker by the second, “It’s sort of embarrassing, but I was wondering if you think it’s too soon to use the uh, hm.”
Richie cuts himself off, removing his hand from Eddie’s to wipe the sweat off his palm. He’s built himself up to asking but now that’s it’s here, he finds himself choked up with words. Eddie’s brow furrows, irritated at not understanding what the man is trying to say.
“The what?” He urges, squinting at Richie, who just looks more humiliated by the second.
“Y’know,” he mutters, sighing as he reaches forward to pause the video prattling on, before finally forcing himself to say, “to use the word love.”
The explanation has Eddie’s heart swelling and he can’t help the grin that threatens to pull at the corner of his mouth.
With a clear of the throat, Eddie continues, “Are you asking me if I think we’re in love or if it’s too soon to use the word itself?”
A blush has travelled to the tip of Richie’s ears now, and Eddie wants to bite the skin there when he responds bashfully with, “The second one.”
“Well, I guess that depends on whenever you feel it,” The shorter man explains, casually, as if it’s a simple conversation to have. The passiveness does ease some anxiety in Richie, who can’t help but be grateful for the person he fell in love with. Eddie glances over at him and they meet eyes as he asks, “Do you feel it now?”
“Yeah, I think I’ve felt it for a while probably,” Richie can’t help but confess honestly, not sure how he held back from telling those wide, dark eyes every secret he’s hidden deep in the recesses of his brain.
“Then there’s your answer,” Eddie confirms, taking a sip out of his styrofoam cup full of unsweetened tea.
“Okay,” He mumbles, watching the other take his drink with fond eyes, sighing before he whispers, “I love you, man.”
Eddie puts the cup down and smiles sweetly over at the man beside him. It’s probably impulsive to say immediately, but he can’t seem to care right now. With a cautious hand, he reaches out to cup the back of Richie’s neck, tender and delicate.
Leaning forward, he pulls the other man to meet him halfway, kissing him on the temple before whispering, “I love you too.” He lets the words sink in for a moment, before squeezing the back of the guy’s neck and teasing, “Bro-ski.”
It makes Richie snicker and try to half-heartedly pull out his grasp as he bites back, “Shut up, homie.”
Releasing his hold on the other man, he leans back in his seat, closing the lid to the to-go container in front of him. He nods towards Richie’s half-finished sandwich and smiles, all sweet and innocent as he says, “Finish your food, so I can show you just how much I love you.”
“Horny,” Richie accuses, but the corner of his lips are threatening to pull up at the suggestion.
After about an hour and a half of lazily rolling around on Richie’s bed, followed by a quick clean up, they’re facing each other again. This time half naked and buzzing with a cocktail of nerves and anticipation.
They’re laying side by side, hesitant hands running over each other’s bodies as they whisper softly about almost nothing.
They’d been discussing what to do first tomorrow, whether that be the farmers market or beach, and when to bring this new development up to their shared friend group.
It’s not a decision to take lightly, but Richie can’t help but feel as if everything’s going to be alright when he looks into Eddie’s eyes, image growing fuzzier as the sun goes down.
Then, there’s a hand gently cupping Richie’s face, and he finds himself settling to hold Eddie by the waist. Drawn together by some outside force, their lips come together, melting to fall in sync.
Languid kisses bring heavy eyelids and after a few slow, blissful moments, Richie wonders if his mouth would keep moving if he fell asleep.
Eddie pulls back to look his boyfriend in the eye, giggling when he’s met with a sleepy hum.
“You wanna just go to bed? We can,” he offers, laughing harder when Richie’s eyes comically shoot open wide, and the man is moving to press against him.
Chest to chest, Richie runs careful fingers through Eddie’s bed head, damn near pouting when he speaks up, “I really wanted to sleep with you, not just next to you.”
“Yeah?” Eddie breathes out as he leans closer, puffing the word against the other man’s lips, “We can arrange that.”
Then, before he can answer, a quick hand pushes him to lay flush against the bed, and Eddie is shifting to hover over him for the second time that night.
Richie looks up at the man above him with wide, glossy eyes. His adolescent self would have died at the idea that not only was Eddie into him romantically, but sexually too.
It’s enough to make him blush from his neck to the tips of his ears.
In a moment of deflection, Richie does the only thing he can when he’s embarrassed. He puts on his best frail Victorian woman voice and bats his eyelashes dramatically, “Why sir, it would be most improper of me to partake in anything scandalous, especially before marriage.”
“What, you want a ring?” Eddie asks with a grin, hand trailing up to brush through messy curls and he leans down, close, so their noses are touching, “‘Cuz I can get you a ring.”
Gulping down a wad of saliva, Richie isn’t sure what else to say to such earnestness. Instead of talking, he just leans up off the bed to press a kiss, needy and wanting into Eddie, hoping that the feeling will convey what his words cannot.
He bets anything that the ring Eddie would pick out would be something classy, but not too over the top. It would be perfect without even consulting Richie on his tastes or preferences, because that’s the kind of guy he is.
A tug at his hair has Richie lifting off the bed to press against the body above him as the other man kisses him back feverishly. He gasps, breaking apart momentarily when he feels Eddie‘s free hand sneak down to his ass, squeezing there hard.
Blunt nails dig into sensitive skin and the shorter man laughs softly at the whine that rips from his throat. Eddie leans in to bite at Richie’s wet bottom lip as his mouth hangs open in a soft pant. When he pulls back, he lets his teeth drag, pulling slowly to really let the man trembling under him feel it.
With a gentle pat to the side of Richie’s ass, he smirks down at the flushed, needy man he’s about to tear apart and asks, innocent as ever, “Where’s your lube?”
It takes the taller man a moment to pull himself together, but eventually he murmurs out a meak, “uhm, table.”
He points at the nightstand closest to them and Eddie can’t help himself, leaning in to press another bruising kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.
All those years of Eddie being terrorized, getting his cheeks pinched and called cute just for Richie to end up as putty in his arms after a few well-placed bites.
A sweet noise escapes from the taller man at the harsh kiss and Eddie knows he has to pull away if he wants them to get anywhere tonight. When he sits up to grab the lube, Richie’s hands come to rest on his waist, rubbing his sides up and down as he waits patiently.
“What?” Eddie huffs out, nervous under the hazed, constant gaze of the other.
“Hm? Oh nothin’” Richie mumbles, brain already settling into a comfortable fog from the rough treatment. Not that he’s complaining of course, oh no. Richie loves to please, loves even more when he gets praise for it. Plus, a little bit of roughing up is hot, especially if it’s from Eddie.
“You’re hot,” he bumbles out, watching intently as the man sitting up in between his legs moves to spread his thighs, pouring lube on two fingers.
It makes Eddie chuckle a bit, bringing the fingers down to press against his twitching hole. When he’s lined up to push them in, he leans down to bring their lips together again, kissing Richie sweetly before whispering against him, “You’re hot. Can’t wait to feel you around me.”
The words are whispered like a promise and Richie lifts a leg up, foot flat against the bed so he can scoot down onto the digits threatening to push into him. He’s not fully hard yet but it doesn’t matter, knowing full well that a few fingers deep will get him there in no time.
He moves a hand to hold a fistful of hair on the back of Eddie’s head, pulling at it. The other man falls with it, allowing his head to be tilted back and Richie leans forward, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of Eddie’s throat.
“What are you waiting for then?” He asks, low against the skin of the man above him, who’s letting out these addicting little sighs of pleasure at every kiss.
To push his luck, he decides to keep talking, sucking in a spot of skin to mark it up nicely before speaking up, “Thought you were gonna shut me up and all that.”
Eddie exhales a laugh, rubbing his fingers against Richie’s hole, thumb moving down to press into the patch of skin that stretches between his balls and hole. The stimulation there has Richie keening, pressing his nose into Eddie’s neck and whining out a confused, “What the fuck?”
“Not sure if you know, but you can stimulate the prostate from the outside, just with a little pressure,” Eddie explains causally, as if he doesn’t have a man trembling and squirming underneath him.
“How the fuck do you know that?” Richie bites out, as if he’s pissed, but he’s still pressing down into the feeling.
“I’ve read a lot of medical books. You’d be surprised what they cover in there,” the passive answer does little more than frustrate Richie more, annoyed that Eddie has him half-hard and leaking over a simple touch.
Then, Eddie’s kissing at the side of his face, rubbing his thumb in small, firm circles as he whispers, “You’re gonna have to use some manners if you want anything inside you.”
“I’ll show your mother some manners,” is Richie’s not so clever response, but he hardly cares right now.
But then that delicious pressure is gone and Eddie’s looking down at him, eyebrows raised in warning and all Richie can do is whine.
“Okay, okay, shit,” he concedes, fingers curling to dig his nails into Eddie’s freckle-speckled shoulders, “C’mon man, please.”
“Sorry Rich,” is the calm, collected response, and Richie realizes he’s not gonna get what he wants that easily, “Not sure what you’re asking me.”
Then, a single finger is pressing into him, only to the first knuckle, a reward for trying at all. Eddie smiles innocently down at the man panting underneath him and asks, “Wanna try again?”
“Eddie,” he’s pleading now, trying to squirm down into the feeling but a free hand is moving to hold him down against the bed by his hips, “Put ‘em in me, please.”
“We’ll work on it,” is the condescending answer back, but the finger inside him is pushing in to the third knuckle and Richie can’t think.
It’s been so long since someone else other than himself was inside, and it’s Eddie they’re talking about here. He’s been fantasizing about this since he found out that boys were allowed to like other boys at all.
He moans at the thought, the reaffirmation that they’re really going all the way, and pulls Eddie down to kiss him for the damn near thousandth time in one day.
The finger works him over, moving in and pulling out slow, agonizingly so, and he can’t do anything but lay there and moan about it.
His desperate noises are pushed into Eddie’s open mouth, and he can’t help but whimper pathetically when he feels a tongue rub against his own.
It feels as if they’re melding into one another, thumping hearts beating out of sync against pressed together chests.
He’s fully hard now, twitching against his taunt stomach and he can feel Eddie’s cock pressing against his inner thigh.
The kiss breaks off as Richie moans low, in the back of his throat, hands flying to grab at any piece of Eddie that he can. He tugs at the man by his shoulders, the back of his neck, his waist, his thighs, anything.
“Needy,” the tease is puffed against his ear and Richie has to fight back a shiver, arching up to press into the body above him.
“No, you’re just going too fucking slow,” he complains, but it just makes Eddie giggle.
Another finger presses against his rim and the Voice he was going to pull out to annoy his boyfriend dies in his mouth.
Instead of a joke, what comes out is a frustrated groan. Richie reaches down to lightly claw at the other man’s wrist, begging properly this time, “Fuck, please Eddie, just put your fingers in me already.”
“Much better, Rich,” Eddie praises, and it sends a wave of electricity through his body, stomach swooping low at the words.
With a final kiss to the temple, the man above him begins scooting down the bed, until his head is in between Richie’s legs. Before he can ask what’s going on, a second finger finally pushes into him.
His head falls back, curls spayed across the light blue sheets haphazardly, hands scrambling to grab at the bed below him. It’s not as if Richie’s never had anything up there, but the pressing fact that Eddie’s inside him won’t leave his head.
That, and hot puffs of air are dancing along his hard cock, threatening to swallow it down. He thinks, foggy and distantly, that there’s no way that his very particular, germ-obsessed boyfriend is gonna put a dick in his mouth.
But then Eddie’s grabbing the dick confidently, with his free hand, and pressing open-mouthed kisses to the leaky tip.
Brain short circuiting, Richie gasps in a cocktail mix of shock and excitement, trying to do his best to not squirm.
Now that Eddie’s hand is off his hip, it would be so easy to rock down on slow-moving fingers ushering in and out of him, to buck up into the feeling of the other man’s scalding, wet mouth.
But that wouldn’t be good and Richie really wants to be good.
Through thick lashes, Eddie looks up at him and his eyes are wondering and wide, like a lost doe. It’s sweet and unbelievably hot at the same time, watching as a tentatively curious tongue swipes out to lick the underside of his cock.
Without thinking, Richie’s sitting up, propped up on one elbow, and reaching down to run his fingers through normally-perfect hair. Right now, it’s mussed up, tiny cowlicks littered around.
He tries to hold it back, but Richie’s laughing softly, in disbelief before whispering, “You’re incredible.”
Eddie doesn’t respond, just shooting a gooey smile up at him and leans in, wrapping his mouth around the head of the dick in his hand.
Mouth dropping open to moan with drawn-in brows, Richie allows himself to fall back against the bed. The fingers inside him start moving faster, opening him up and Eddie is taking more of him down, inch by experimental inch.
Eyes squeezed shut, Richie has to put his focus on not immediately blowing his load, thinking of incredibly unsexy things to stave the feeling off.
The hand holding his dick steady releases him, snaking it way up his body to roll his left nipple between small, dexterous fingers.
A noise, higher pitched than he would like to admit, escapes him, and Richie feels beady tears prick at the corner of his eyes.
“Wait,” he manages to breathe out, tugging at Eddie’s hair to pull him off, “I’m close, wait.”
The man between his legs listens, pulling away and looking up at him, far too pleased.
“That was quick,” he jokes, but stops moving his fingers altogether, crawling back up to press his nose to the side of Richie’s neck.
“Shut up, dick breath,” the taller man grumbles, shifting uncomfortably on the bed with two fingers deep in him. Eddie gets the hint and pulls out, nipping at the skin closest to him in retaliation, “It was literally your dick, so if it stinks it’s on you.”
“You are so annoying,” Richie half-heartedly complains, not really meaning it but it gets a reaction out of Eddie regardless.
“I know you’re not talking,” the man lounging on top of him bites back, and it makes him chuckle.
He lets them sit in comfortable silence, just until the pressing, insistent feeling of an orgasm crawls back into the hole it came from.
When he feels ready, he clears his throat, nudges Eddie with a bony knee and croons out, “Why, good fellow, I do believe I’m ready for a proper dicking.”
The voice is one of a true English man, the kind who would never be seen without a bowler hat and curly mustache.
His boyfriend sits up, face scrunched in disgust and Richie delves into devilish laughter, delighted at the result.
“Think I just lost my erection, actually,” Eddie quips, but he’s still half-hard, only from lack of stimulation.
“Need help with that?” Richie asks, not waiting for an answer before licking the palm of his own hand, and reaching down to stroke at the other’s cock.
“Shit,” is the hissed-out answer, and Eddie’s eyes are squeezing shut, “That was nasty by the way.”
“Mm, yeah, tell me how filthy I am baby,” the other man coos out, opening his legs up wider as Eddie sneaks a hand down his body.
“Shut the fuck up Richie,” Eddie whispers, heated and irritated, just because the man below him has a funny talent for pissing him off, even when he’s not doing anything.
“Mmm, I dunno,” Richie hums, grinning up at the man above him as jerks him off, keeping a steady pace, “might have to make me.”
“Overused,” is the response he gets thoroughly unimpressed and Richie gives him the finger.
“You just can’t appreciate the classics,” the taller man manages out, just before Eddie’s sitting back and pouring more lube over his fingers. Richie watches, curious, as the other man moves to press against his hole, three fingers this time.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate, pushing all of them in and it makes Richie break stride, hand falling off of the now hard cock he was touching, grasping at the sheets desperately.
Then, the man above him is leaning down to feverishly whisper low in his ear, “So many thoughts rattling around that big head of yours all the time huh?”
The fingers start drawing back slowly, dragging, only to get pushed in rapidly, with a slight twist. The contrasting sensations have Richie’s head spinning, but he manages to nod anyway, because Eddie’s right. Sometimes, he thinks of so much at once that the words get overlapped, unable to be comprehended.
It makes it hard to think sometimes, makes it hard to express himself fully, outside of speaking in silly catchphrases or well-practiced accents.
But right now, as Eddie takes the time to open him up, stretch him, there’s really nothing coming to mind aside from how good it feels.
“That’s it,” Eddie encourages, pouring a gob of lube onto his fingers the next time he pulls them out, watching as the liquid gets pushed back in, “No more thinking, just relax for me. You’re almost there.”
Underneath him, Richie’s got an arm covering his face, panting into his forearm as he tries his best to stay still and not fuck down onto the fingers inside him.
After a few more grueling minutes of being spread open, Eddie’s fingers are finally, finally pulling out. He sits back, grabbing a pillow and motions for Richie to lift his hips.
The flushed man can do little more than obey, allowing the pillow to be placed underneath him at his lower back. It embarrassingly raises his hips, but he doesn’t have time to be humiliated by being on display.
Richie almost cries in relief at the feeling of a round cock head rubbing around his hole.
Without his glasses and in the dark, Eddie looks distant and fuzzy. He reaches down, clawing at strong thighs that tense as the other man’s dick begins to feed into him, inch by inch.
Once he’s halfway in, Eddie leans down to hold Richie’s head in his hands and ask, concerned, “Okay?”
The man sounds as if all the air in his lungs has been squashed out, and Richie can see him so much clearer up close.
Sweaty hair sticks to his forehead and Eddie’s sweet brown eyes look black in the night.
Richie nods and grabs him by the back of the neck to bring him down into a kiss, canting his hips down to press the cock into him a smidge more.
When they break away, he breathes a plea against Eddie’s wet lips, “I can take the rest.”
“Yeah?” Is the hushed response, though it doesn’t make much sense. Then, a thumb from Eddie’s clean hand is pressing against Richie’s lips, pushing through to press down on his tongue.
Sucking on the thumb in his mouth, closing around it with a moan, he watches Eddie with lidded-eyes.
Desperate muffled noises come out around Eddie’s finger as the cock inside him pushes in, further, until the man holding him down is fully seated.
The thumb falls from his mouth, excess salvia dragging on the sheets below them before Eddie’s hands are on him again, one on his throat and the other holding his right leg up, at the back of his thighs directly under his ass.
“Please,” Richie hears himself begging, without being asked this time, and it makes Eddie’s mouth drop open to moan, head falling to press their foreheads together, “Move.”
Panting breath into each other's open mouths, Eddie pulls out slowly, not all the way, and rolls his hips back in, forward and up. Something inside him gets brushed, momentarily, and it lights every nerve in his body on fire.
“No fucking way,” The whimper comes out disbelieving and Richie’s got both hands twisted in the sheets.
It makes Eddie pull back to look at him, eyebrows drawn together in concern, “What?”
“Nothin’” Richie forces out, pulling the man down so he can snuggle up to the crook of his neck, “Think you just immediately hit something that nobody’s hit for me, like ever.”
“Really?” Eddie breathes out in shock, grin spreading on his face at the knowledge, “You’re not just talking me up right?”
“No, seriously, just me and my fingers,” he confirms, even though he’s sure his boyfriend will get a big ego about it.
“Huh,” is all the other can get out, overwhelmed and oddly sentimental at the idea that he’s the only one who’s gotten it for Richie. He holds a mental victory lap and pulls out slow again, and sinks back in, repeating the same hip roll as before.
A quick sharp intake of breath from the man in his arms confirms it for him.
“Here,” Eddie mumbles, grabbing each of Richie’s hands, one at a time, and placing them onto his shoulders, “Hold onto me.”
The man obeys wordlessly, cheeks dipped red in a combination of embarrassment and arousal.
Clinging to Eddie, the cock starts up a steady rhythm, fucking into him at an even pace. It’s methodical, calculated almost and textbook to how Richie assumed the other man would be in bed.
Not that he’s complaining, whining sweetly against the man’s clavicle, digging harsh nails into the skin of his back.
“God, listen to you,” Eddie’s urging, panting open mouthed and hot down his neck. He leans close to tease low in Richie’s red-tipped ears, “Really thought you’d be more talkative though, Rich.”
“Fff-uck off,” The response is choked out, more whiny than intended as he starts getting fucked harder, body moving against the bed with ever harsh thrust.
“Hmmm?” His tormentor hums, questioning and curious, pulling out to snap back in, thrusts now constant and punishing. Eddie’s eyes never leave his face, watching the way his mouth forms needy moans, memorizing the way his eyes flutter shut at a particularly harsh push in.
Richie realizes suddenly that he’s being used, filled, opened up and ruined in a way nobody's been able to do before.
The thought spurs him, reaching to grab the back of Eddie’s thighs and dig his nails in there. His hands rake up to the man’s ass, squeezing at it as he manages to groan out, “Fuck yeah, give it to me.”
He’s rewarded by the press of a hand to his mouth and Eddie is leaning down to whisper, harsh and mean in his ear, “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. Shut up Richie.”
The command has Richie squirming, whimpering against the hand slapped over his mouth.
He’s always been expected to perform, even in bed, so the idea that he just gets to lay there and take it? It's exhilarating, sexy and fun in a way he hasn’t had during sex in, well, ever.
Eddie seems to feed off of the compliance, intoxicated by the display of obedience, slipping out and pushing back in faster now.
After a handful of sped-up, rapid fire thrusts, Richie’s head lolls off to the side. Eddie doesn’t let him stray for too long, picking his head up with a spare hand and moving to hold him still, so he’s forced to look up at the other man.
Eyes half-lidded, but open nonetheless, Richie groans low at a particularly deep thrust, looking over Eddie’s face, flushed in concentration and sex.
“C’mon,” The man above him is goading now, cruelly teasing, forcibly opening up Richie’s mouth for him by pressing two fingers to the side of one cheek, a thumb to the other, “Go ahead, say something now.”
But he can’t, can’t manage to get much of anything out, only able to croak out a pathetic, “Eddie.”
It makes the other man huff a breath of a laugh, relinquishing the grip on his face to pull him into a sweet, deep kiss.
The fucking never stops or slows down, pace even and constant. Richie know’s he’s a goner when Eddie nips at his bottom lip as he breaks away to whisper, “That’s what I fucking thought.”
The other man chokes on a strangled moan, rushing to grip at Eddie’s neck, nails digging in.
His hands slip on the sweat there, thighs clenching around that thin, lithe waist and hips that haven’t stopped moving.
Looking up at Eddie’s flushed out cheeks and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyes half-open, Richie can only think of one thing.
“Love you,” he manages through torn apart noises that seem to be pulled, punched out of him with every brutal thrust.
“Love you,” Eddie presses back, as if it’s urgent, a message that cannot wait to be shared. Richie can feel every inch, every bit of the other man push into him, stretching him open.
He’s not sure he’ll really be able to let the guy go home after this, might have to keep him locked up somewhere for good.
“‘M close,” the man fucking into him whimpers, gasping as he speeds up, head falling down. He’s got the back of Richie’s thigh in a vice grip, holding him in place.
Pulling back, about to slip his cock out, Eddie falters when long, graceful fingers reach out to grab at the back of his thigh.
“What’re you doin’?” Richie mumbles, strung out from a good fucking, confused and dazed.
“Pulling out? So I can finish?” Eddie gazes down at his boyfriend’s sweaty, flushed body, puzzled.
“Wha- Nooo,” The man whines in response, and the corners of Eddie’s mouth turn up at the sound.
“No?”
“No. Do it inside,” the answer comes out like a plea, and Richie can’t keep his eyes open, especially not when Eddie presses his leg further down, slipping just half an inch deeper, “Fuck, yeah, Ed’s- right there, right there.”
“Oh god,” Eddie groans, head falling as his pace picks up, blindly grabbing at Richie’s throat to squeeze, “So tight, Rich, ‘m not gonna last much longer.”
Now Richie’s motormouth really kicks up, a breath away from cumming without his cock being touched at all, dizzy from dick and the grip on his throat.
He feels drunk, slurring as he goads the other on, “Yeah, fuckin’ fill me up Eddie, make me take it.”
The other man is sitting up now, using the hand around Richie’s neck to pull him down, meeting brutal thrusts. His moans are coming out strained, almost wheezing as the pace picks up.
Flashes of light and stars burst behind Richie’s eyelids as he’s fucked sloppy, pathetic groans and nonsensical pleas ripped out of him every time he’s stuffed full.
Eddie cums first, face scrunched in a way that looks like he’s furious, eyebrows drawn tight together and eyes squeezed shut.
He fills Richie up with a gasp of the man’s name, like prayer, like a promise, hips stuttering as his ass gets stuffed with it.
Chest heaving, Eddie is slow when he pulls out, despite the whines and clawing at his thighs from Richie.
Then, he’s crawling down the man’s worn out body, pressing open, biting kisses wherever his mouth lands along the way.
When he stops at Richie’s flushed, deep red and leaking cock, a hand flies to his hair and he hears a frantic warning, “Eddie, I’m gonna cum in ‘yer mouth if you do that.”
“You better,” is his biting response back, sounding annoyed that the other man would even bring it up.
Then, he’s swallowing as much dick as he can in one go, sighing in pleasure at the taste and burn in the back of his throat.
It doesn’t last long, maybe less than a minute and then Richie’s finishing with an arch in his back and Eddie’s name on his lips.
The room is silent for a pause, then the man between his legs is crawling back up. He collapses onto the bed, melting into it, half on Richie and half on the mattress.
The sheets between his legs are soaked, but he’s sore and satisfied in a way he’s not sure he’s ever been before after sex.
Richie lets his eyes slip shut, reaching up to run a hand through Eddie’s hair and a laugh unexpectedly bubbles from the back of his throat.
“Hmm?” The man near comatose next to him hums, and it makes Richie giggle harder.
“I dunno,” he confesses between bouts of laughter, and soon Eddie is joining in, puffing out chuckles against Richie’s newly marked up neck.
“I can’t believe we really did that,” Eddie admits with a wide grin, reaching up to draw shapes into the other man’s sweaty chest hair.
“Me neither,” Richie agrees, moving to wrap an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, holding him, “But it was like… scary good right?”
“Like, life-changingly good,” Eddie agrees easily, eyes still squeezed shut as his delicate fingers dance across flushed skin.
“Don’t go back to New York,” Richie finds himself whispering, into the dark and it has the other man stirring, sitting up.
“Richie, c’mon, don’t ask me that,” the words come out softly, reserved and sad, as if Eddie doesn’t want to be saying them.
“Why not?” His response is a bit more heated, more weighted than anticipated but Eddie takes it in stride, doesn’t rise to the challenge.
“Because I’ll do it, and it would be reckless and impulsive,” the man sighs out, laying back down to rest his head on Richie’s chest.
“You think?” He asks in displeasure, frown so present you can hear it when he talks.
“I do,” Eddie confirms with another dejected sigh, kissing at the skin below him, “But, at the same time, I really, really want to say yes.”
“Not to sway your opinion, and I’m definitely biased here but, Eddie, when was the last time you did anything reckless or impulsive for yourself?”
His words sit in the stagnant air for a few silent minutes and Richie wonders for a split second if the man fell asleep. But then, Eddie’s speaking back up, more confidently this time, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Fuck it. Let’s do it.”
For a moment, Richie’s scared that his face would split with how hard he’s grinning as he wraps both arms tightly around the other man.
“Really?” He breathes out, in disbelief that Eddie would ever say yes, would ever want to start a life with him.
“Yeah, just- let me go back and get my bearings for a few weeks. Y’know, ask about a branch transfer and all that.”
“Alright, yeah, whatever you need,” Richie urges, heart soaring at the idea of the two of them really making it happen.
“And then,” Eddie’s voice drops to a whisper, kissing at the skin he’s laying on, “I’ll fly you out to my studio, and you can join me on the long ass drive to California.”
“Fuck yeah, road trip,” Richie moves to tilt Eddie’s head up, by his jaw, kissing him sweetly before pulling back with a grimace, “Oof, you gotta brush your teeth man.”
“Fuck you, I take it back,” The man scoffs but still laughs when Richie reaches for him as he gets up, off the bed.
“Nooo, oh my god, I didn’t mean it,” He whines, grasping at empty air in Eddie’s direction, “I love your stale breath baby.”
“Disgusting. Get up and shower with me,” is the commanding response, and a hand playfully smacks at Richie’s ass when he stands up with a grunt.
“Okay! You gotta help me get this cum outta my ass though,” He replies far too cheerfully for the subject, smile only growing when Eddie presses against him, standing flush chest to chest in the dark. Two hands come to grab at his ass, massaging for a moment before teeth graze his chest.
Lightening strums through Richie’s bloodstream, gulping when the man practically purrs against him, “Oh, gladly.”
He has an odd feeling that they’ll do more than just clean up, but he can’t find it in himself to care.
As Richie’s led to his own bathroom, he’s certain that whatever comes next, they’ll figure it out, together.