One Year Later
The Losers kept in touch after they parted ways, just like they said they would. There was a group chat now, where everyone could share the goings on of their lives, which for the most part was filled with all the big milestones in Bev and Ben’s relationship. They’d gotten engaged pretty quick, but decided to have a long engagement, and made the rest of the Losers promise they would attend the ceremony.
Bill had a new book coming out, one that critics were already saying had “the best ending Denbrough has ever written.” They were all immensely proud and had each been sent a signed copy of said book and hey, if they all got a little teary over the fact that the book was dedicated to Stan, that was their business.
Not much had changed for Richie. Well, aside from the fact that he’d started writing his own material...and the fact that he’d come out during one of his shows. But other than that, everything was the same. He still lived in LA, he still had the same agent, he was still madly in love with his best friend.
His best friend who had been noticeably absent in the group chat the last few weeks. Eddie hadn’t contributed much to the group chat in the first place, which already made Richie nervous. He wanted to know so badly what the other man was up to. But Eddie had asked for time and Richie was determined to give it to him, even with every bone in his body screaming at him to hop a plane to New York and bust down Eddie’s door to make sure he was alive and well.
A knock at the door of his dressing room made Richie jump. Oh right, his agent had set up some “meet and greet” shit for after the show. Must be whatever fan won the backstage pass. Richie took a breath and shook off all thoughts of Eddie. He was really good at meet and greets. At least he liked to think so. Fans always left seemingly pleased. But he couldn’t do it with thoughts of his long lost Eddie Spaghetti swimming around in his head.
Richie put on a big grin, hoping it would be convincing enough and yanked open the door.
“Welcome to the--
He broke off, jaw dropping when he saw who was waiting for him on the other side. Eddie Kaspbrack, in the fucking flesh. Eddie Kaspbrak with a backstage pass hanging around his neck.
“I was gonna call first, but this seemed more fun,” Eddie said, smiling even though he looked nervous. Richie stepped out of the way to let him into his dressing room feeling, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words. “It was Bev’s idea actually. I guess she knows someone who works for your agent. Wasn’t all that hard to have the contest rigged in my favor.”
Richie finally found his voice, huffing a laugh.
“You turn into a badass over the last year, Spaghetti? You assess risk for a living and now here you are, breaking rules just to come see little old me,” Richie teased.
He was trying to cover his nerves. They both knew it. But to be fair, Eddie was scrutinizing Richie’s dressing room, looking for things to nitpick about, which was a classic Kaspbrak deflection tactic.
“Jesus, Rich, you’ve got what, three shows booked at this venue? How the hell did it get this messy? It looks like a bomb went off and--oh my god, is that pizza crust on the floor . What the hell is wrong with you? That’s like, a huge hazard and--
Richie was more than content to stand in the middle of his dressing room, listening to Eddie rant about how gross he was, but he had to ask. He had to know.
“So...did you just drop in to say hi?” he asked.
Eddie cut off his rambling and turned to look at Richie, one eyebrow raised as if to say “ really ?”
“Yes, Richie. I hopped a plane, even though I fucking hate flying, just so I could swing by your dressing room to say hi,” he said sarcastically.
Richie through his hands up.
“Well I don’t know! I mean, I haven’t heard much from you for the past year. I don’t know where we stand!” He knew he was being a spazz, but he also knew he was justified.
“Divorces take a while to go through you asshole! I had to wait until all the paperwork was official because I knew if I saw you I wouldn’t be able to hold back!” Eddie yelled back.
Richie was about to respond when he caught sight of something on Eddie’s left hand. Or rather, the lack of something on Eddie’s left hand.
“You’re not wearing a ring,” Richie said dumbly.
The frown on Eddie’s face fell into something softer. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react in any way other than giving a small shrug of his shoulders as he moved into Richie’s space. They were almost close enough to touch. God, Richie wanted to touch.
“You grew out your beard.” Eddie’s voice was soft, reverent almost.
Richie ran a hand over his jaw, suddenly self conscious. It wasn’t really deliberate decision to grow out his beard. He’d been on the road a lot, throwing himself into work to keep himself nice and distracted. Shaving wasn’t his top priority. Eddie, seeming to sense Richie’s thoughts, batted his hand away and replaced it with his own. His finger brushed just behind Richie’s ear, making the other man shudder.
“I like it,” Eddie assured him and apparently that was all Richie needed to hear because then he was dragging Eddie in for a kiss. He dove in a little too quick and he kind of forgot how much taller he was than Eddie so he really only caught Eddie’s top lip and ouch, yeah, their teeth fucking clacked together.
“Okay, ow,” Richie said, pulling away and rubbing at his sore lips.
“Jesus, I waited a whole year to kiss you again and instead you give me a fat lip,” Eddie grumbled, his tongue flicking over his lip to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. Richie’s indignant sound was cut off by Eddie pressing their lips together, much softer than the first time and so much better. It only lasted a minute or so before Eddie was pulling away with a huff. “God, you’re a giraffe, kissing you is giving me a fucking neck ache.”
Richie rolled his eyes.
“You big fuckin baby,” he sighed, but the exasperation in his voice was over exaggerated and both of them knew he didn’t mean it. “Here, what if I just--
He cut off, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and lifting him up. Eddie let out a squeak of surprise, flailing for a moment before he locked his arms and legs around Richie, clinging to him for dear life.
“If you drop me, I swear to god--
“Tsk, tsk, Eds. I’d never drop you,” Richie promised, safely depositing Eddie onto the counter in front of one of the dressing room mirrors. He slid forward so he was fully between Eddie’s legs, tipping the shorter man’s chin up slightly with his thumb and forefinger. They were much closer to the same height now. “Better?” he asked.
Eddie swallowed hard, nodding.
Richie grinned smugly, kissing Eddie again. He groaned when Eddie nipped his bottom lip playfully, sliding his tongue past Richie’s lips when he gasped. It shouldn’t be surprising that Eddie kissed the same way he did everything else. He was methodical and thorough, taking Richie apart with teasing flicks of his tongue as he wound his fingers into Richie’s curls and tugged just hard enough to make Richie whimper.
All the times Richie had pictured this moment when he was a teenager, he never expected it to be like this. He never thought he would be allowed to run his hands over every part of Eddie he could reach. One hand settled on Eddie’s thigh, squeezing hard as his other hand cupped the back of Eddie’s neck. He crowded in closer, breaking the kiss to rest his head against Eddie’s forehead, panting hard when Eddie started rocking his hips forward against Richie’s.
“Fuck, Eds, I want...” he choked on a moan that was much too loud in the small space of his dressing room as Eddie kissed his ear, nipping at his earlobe and pulling him even closer.
“Anything. Anything you want, Richie. I’m all yours,” Eddie murmured, voice low and somehow heartfelt and dirty at the same time and fuck, Richie loved this man.
Richie pressed a lingering kiss to Eddie’s forehead, his cheeks, and finally his lips. He swallowed hard, and slid his hands down Eddie’s chest, over his annoyingly toned abs, hooking his fingers under the band of his jeans. A silent question.
“Anything,” Eddie’s said again, laughing when Richie immediately went for the button of his jeans, practically ripping them open. “Whoa, hey, I’m not going anywhere, Rich. You don’t have to ruin my favorite jeans.”
“Sorry,” Richie said, not sounding so at all. He licked the palm of his hand, half expecting Eddie to complain about germs, before he closed his fingers around Eddie’s dick. Eddie’s dick. Holy shit, he was touching Eddie’s dick. Eddie’s dick was in his hand.
“Uh, Rich?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah?” Richie’s eyes were still trained on Eddie’s cock, trying to catalogue the image of exactly how it looked in his hand.
“It generally works better if you move your hand.”
Richie’s head shot up, his eyes locking with Eddie’s and his cheeks going bright red. Eddie giggled at him, but his laughter melted into a moan when Richie, finally, started moving his hand. He jerked Eddie the way he liked to jerk himself off; grip tight, strokes slow. He didn’t know how Eddie liked it. He wanted to know how Eddie liked it. And if he had his way, he’d have plenty of time to figure it out. But for now he must be doing a good enough job because Eddie keeps letting out these desperate little “uh uh uh” sounds that are going straight to Richie’s dick, reminding him of how hard he is himself.
“W-wait. Hang on a sec,” Eddie said suddenly, words a little slurred which made Richie feel hot all over.
“What’s wrong?” Richie asked, searching Eddie’s face for any sign of discomfort.
Eddie shook his head.
“Nothing. I...I don’t wanna come alone.”
Oh. Oh, okay. How fucking dare Eddie just come out and say something like that as if he thought Richie’s heart, and his dick, could take it. Richie was so stuck on those words he almost didn’t notice Eddie’s fingers popping open the button on his jeans, sliding Richie’s pants down until they were caught around his knees.
“Well this doesn’t seem fair,” Richie pouted.
Eddie rolled his eyes, shoving his own jeans down further before grabbing hold of Richie’s ass and yanking him back between his thighs.
When their cocks brushed for the first time, Richie almost fucking lost it. Like he was a stupid teenager again, fumbling around in the dark with some kid at camp that he never told anyone about. He’d popped his top the second the other boy had touched him and now, now it was Eddie touching him and Richie was already far too close to coming.
“I hope you don’t expect me to last,” Richie panted, taking them both in hand and nipping at Eddie’s jaw when the other man threw his head back and let out a particularly needy whine. “Wanted you for too long and it’s so good I--
“It’s okay,” Eddie grunted, “I’m not last much longer either. God, Richie, don’t stop.”
As if Richie could stop. It was too good. He couldn’t get enough of the desperate thrust of Eddie’s hips, or the sounds he was letting out against the curve of Richie’s neck. Speaking of sounds, Richie was startled to realize that a particularly broken, reedy moan had come from him. He’d be embarrassed if it was anyone other than Eddie he was pressed up against.
Eddie came first, hands wrapped around Richie’s back, fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt. Richie made to pull back a little, since he knew Eddie must be sensitive, but the other man shook his head, and kept rocking against Richie.
“Keep going. W-wanna feel you come,” he said, kissing at Richie’s neck.
Coming sounded like a great fucking idea. Best idea Richie had ever heard. His mind was already buzzing with all the things he wanted to do to Eddie, hopefully in the not so distant future. He pictured pressing Eddie against his bedroom door while he was on his knees in front of him, swallowing his cock. Eddie naked on top of him, riding Richie’s dick and clawing at his chest as he chased his own pleasure. Eddie fucking into him slow and deep and--whoa, that was a new but totally not unwelcome fantasy. Oh god, the idea of Eddie being inside him.
“N-next time, wanna come w-with you fucking me,” Richie groaned, pitching forward and coming hard just as Eddie sunk his teeth into his shoulder.
It was a while before either of them came down, holding onto each other for dear life like they were each afraid the other would disappear if they let go. When Richie finally managed to pry his eyes open, Eddie was looking at him with so much fondness in his eyes it made his heart ache.
“I love you,” Eddie said quietly, pushing Richie’s sweaty curls off his forehead.
“I love you too, Spaghetti.”
Eddie grimaced as he watched Richie wipe his hand on his shirt.
“I don’t, however, love that. You’re disgusting,” Eddie said.
“Hey, you signed up for all this willingly. If you love me, you’ve gotta love my disgusting habits,” he teased.
Eddie gave him a playful shove, grabbing a couple tissues like a civilized human being and cleaning the both of them off before he tugged his pants back up. Richie did the same, watching Eddie nervously out of the corner of his eye.
“You’re not gonna disappear and leave me for another year are you? I mean, you’re really here right?” he asked and yeah, he hated how desperate he sounded, but he needed to know.
Eddie cupped Richie’s face in his hands and kissed him slow and deep, smiling when he felt Richie’s arms wind around him. They stayed close even after they broke the kiss as Eddie rested his head on Richie’s chest.
“Where the hell else would I be?”