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so i thought i'd give you a try

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“We should kiss too,” Richie says suddenly.

Eddie looks up from his yawn. “What?”

Richie pushes his long hair out of his eyes. “Let’s kiss at midnight with everyone else,” he says again.

Eddie gapes at him like a dead fish.

Richie shifts awkwardly. “Unless…?”

“No!” Eddie blurts, before he loses this little flash of daring, this little glimpse of hope that maybe they’ll be able to stop hiding from the world. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“Well,” Richie says, “it’s a new millennium, Eds. Maybe things’ll look up for us gays this century, eh?”

“There’s already civil partnership laws in Cali,” Bill says. “So…”

“Yeah,” Richie says. “See? Might even be our decade!”

Mike shuffles over to block them from view from the people behind them. Since everyone’s looking ahead, waiting for the ball to drop, it shields them from view pretty well.

Richie twists to grin up at him. “Saint Hanlon. Patron to the gays.”

“Just doing my duty as the only guy here taller than you,” Mike teases back.

“Oh, rub it in, will ya? Can you even see Eddie from up there?”

“Fuck off, asshole,” Eddie says, but he takes Richie’s hand, pressing their palms together through their gloves.

“Countdown’s about to start,” Stan informs them, trying not to look proud of them.

Eddie hears it start, vaguely. He’s looking up at Richie, wild hair down to his shoulders and thick glasses and hideous colorful scarf tucked into his green coat. And Richie looks at him, and smiles, just a little nervous but not scared.

Our millennium, Eddie thinks, because he’d spend a thousand years with Richie if he could.

He doesn’t think he makes it all the way until midnight before he’s pulling Richie down to kiss him, but when the ball drops and everyone cheers, Eddie’s still kissing him. And then for a few seconds longer.

Richie pulls away first, because they’re in public and he’s shaking, but he doesn’t let go of Eddie’s hand.

After all, it’s dark and they’re both wearing thick coats in the freezing New York cold, and Eddie’s bundled in a scarf and hat with flaps because he gets cold easily, especially when he’s tired.

So maybe no one even knows.

But it doesn’t matter, because Richie’s squeezing his hand all the way home.

**

Eddie wakes up to Richie kissing his nose.

“Morning,” he says, and Eddie can hear his grin, but he refuses to open his eyes.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Eddie mutters.

“Nope, come on,” Richie says. “It’s noon. Time to wake up.”

“Fuck offffffff,” Eddie says, rolling them over and trying to squeeze his squirming boyfriend into submission. “I’m on vacation.”

“You’re gonna be crabby all day if you don’t take up now,” Richie laughs. “You know this.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, smelling Richie’s hair, obviously freshly washed. Hoping to get lucky, no doubt. “Is someone feeling needy?”

“Horribly,” Richie teases.

“Well, you’re fucking leaving me,” Eddie says, nipping at his shoulder teasingly. “So fuck you.”

“I’m going on tour,” Richie says. “For two weeks. You’ve been living in the hospital for about as long.”

“It’s called a residency for a reason,” Eddie mumbles.

“Well,” Richie says. “I got a real big problem here myself, doc.” He grinds against Eddie, and Eddie finally cracks an eye open.

“You and your medical kink,” Eddie says. “You know my job is to cut people open, right?”

“Hot,” Richie says, winking.

Eddie groans. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey, more holes means more to fuck.”

“Please shut up,” Eddie says. “Please. I’m trying to be attracted to you.”

“Eddie, I think at this point we’ve both realized there’s nothing that could turn us off of each other,” Richie says. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to push it,” Eddie says, kissing Richie’s throat softly to make him shiver.

“Eddie,” Richie murmurs, very softly. “You ever have anything new you wanna try?”

“Hm?” Eddie asks, settling back onto his chest to look at him. “Like?”

“Like, remember years ago when you asked me what my kinks are?” Richie asks. “And at the time I was too scared to have any?”

“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking. “Yeah. Is this how long it takes your brain to work?”

“Haha,” Richie says dryly. “No. Well, yes, sort of, but I was thinking about it being New Year’s Day.”

Eddie nods seriously. “New Year’s sexolutions.”

“Fuck!” Richie shouts. “How’d you beat me to it?!”

“You made the set up pretty obvious,” Eddie said. “And I listen to your comedy, even if I don’t show it.” He pokes Richie in the nose and Richie spits and flounders dramatically.

“Well, fine,” Richie says. “I guess I’ll have to learn how to remove an appendix, since apparently you’re taking over my job.”

“Mhmm,” Eddie says, yawning. “So you have shit you wanna try?”

“Well,” Richie says, sitting up. “I thought we could both come up with a few things. Like… four each.”

“Four, huh?” Eddie asks, peering up at Richie. 

“I don’t actually have a list,” Richie says, blushing pink. “I just don’t think I’ll be able to think of any more.”

“Right,” Eddie says. “Can we have breakfast first?”

Richie nods, looking very adorable as he tries to bounce back from the mortifying ordeal of openly expressing his sexual desires.

Eddie kisses his cheek and shoves him out of bed, then stumbles out into the living room.

“Good morning,” Stan says. “Would it kill you to wear pants?”

“Stan, we literally moved,” Eddie says. He’s wearing boxers, which feels like enough when he’d worked graveyard shifts for two whole weeks in order to take a vacation until Richie goes on tour. “You moved with us. How are you still complaining about how we live?”

(They’d moved in part because Richie had started getting much, much bigger checks for gigs in the past year, and in part because their building had developed a very severe roach infestation, which, frankly, none of them wanted to put up with.)

(They’d assumed that this meant Stan would get a new place. Instead, they’d just gotten a bigger apartment and Patty had moved the last of her things in from her parents’ place.)

“Someone has to,” Stan says. “There’s oatmeal on the stove.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, and starts eating straight from the pot with the ladle.

“Gross,” Richie says. “What if we still wanted some of that?”

“Fuck off,” Eddie mutters. “We’re swapping spit all the time anyway.”

Richie puts his hands over his heart. “I’m so proud of you.”

Eddie kicks him in the shin.

**

It takes Eddie to really compile a list.

He mostly just likes touching Richie, and when something feels good, he does more of it. He doesn’t know if he has specific kinks.

But first he puts down:

  1. Denial

Because the longer Richie goes without coming, the easier it is to make him come untouched and he wants Richie to come on his dick. The rest follow a little easier.

  1. Blowjobs

He’s waffled around on that one for a while, because he can’t imagine it tastes very good. But he likes doing stuff with his mouth, and since Richie’s always bottoming, Eddie wants to show him the joys of sticking your dick in something warm and wet. Preferably without having a part of his brain unable to stop wondering whether or not he’d know if he was shitting on his boyfriend’s dick.

  1. Doctor rp?

He puts a question mark because he has a few ideas, but he doesn’t know if it’s actually something Richie is into or just an easy bit. But given Richie’s voices, he’s always wondered how roleplay might go with him. Richie’s a pretty good actor, but whether or not he can put it to good use…

The last one is more of an image than an actual idea, and he doesn’t know how to phrase it. So he decides to say it in a way that will make Richie laugh.

  1. Cleaning kink

He finishes the last point and then waits for Richie to finish packing away the food (and argue with Stan what to call their non-denominational wintertime pine tree, currently decorated with every color of lights and several stars of David).

Richie returns and sits on the bed.

“I have a list,” Eddie says, waving the paper at him. “Now you.”

“You wrote it down?” Richie asks. “You weirdo.”

“Yeah, jackass,” Eddie says. “That’s how lists work.”

“You can make a list without writing it down,” Richie says. “The Beatles, The Beegees, The Beastie Boys. A list of bands that all with The B.”

“That’s your first thought?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah.”

“It’s more exciting to write it down,” Eddie says. “And then we’ll read it to each other.”

“Hang on, is being a nerd on your list?” He tries to peek, and Eddie smacks him.

Richie giggles and gets a pen and paper, curling up with it. “Fine. But no looking.”

Eddie sighs and rolls over so he’s not looking, tapping his foot until Richie finally throws himself down on the bed beside him.

Eddie scoots up so they’re sitting across from each other. “Alright, who’s first?”

“You sound like a school teacher,” Richie snorts. “Alright, class, who’s reading their kink list first?”

“Ew,” Eddie replies.

Richie bites his lip. “You go first.”

Eddie notes his nerves and nods.

“Um… so the first one is denial,” Eddie says. Richie raises a brow. “But it’s a two parter. I want you to not touch yourself on tour.”

“For two weeks?” Richie whines. “But Eds…” 

“And when you get come I wanna see if I can make you come on my dick,” Eddie says. “Without touching yours.”

Richie blinks at him. “Oh. Okay. Um.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah.” 

“I could be convinced,” Richie says. “But you gotta call me every night anyway.”

“Oh, no, I only ever talk to you for sex,” Eddie says, as sarcastically as possible.

“I always knew,” Richie says, grinning. “Okay. Continue.”

“Blowjobs,” Eddie says.

Richie goes very still. Eddie can see his throat work as his tongue licks over his front teeth, nervous.

“Rich,” Eddie says. “We can’t do this if you’re not gonna tell me when you’re not sure about something.”

Richie laughs, slightly bitter, and nods his head reluctantly. “I don’t think I wanna suck your dick.”

Eddie looks Richie up and down. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Only if you won’t freak,” Richie says. “Not because I don’t think it’s worth freaking over or anything, I’m not fucking stupid, but it was a while ago and I don’t want to dredge up all the feelings again now. It’s all just…” 

“Derry?” Eddie suggests quietly.

Richie nods. “Derry.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll try not to freak out.”

*

“Patrick Hockstetter used to say if he knocked my front teeth out, I’d probably suck cock pretty well. And he made it pretty clear he was tempted to put it to the test,” Richie mutters.

It’s very, very hard not to lose it. Eddie has to take many, many deep breaths. “Fuckin’ asshole,” he mutters.

“What sucked about it,” Richie says, “other than the rapey-ness, and the making me feel awful about my fucking teeth when I lived with a dentist, and the… fucking violence, was just how fucking unfair it was that if Patrick fuckin’ Hockstetter threatens to beat me into giving him a fucking blowjob, it’s fine, but if I wanna hold a boy’s hand I’m a fag.”

Eddie has to wipe at his eyes at that. “Yeah,” he chokes out. “Well. He got eaten by a clown and we fucking killed it, so screw him.”

*

Richie laughs at that, and Eddie feels like maybe his purpose in life is just to make Richie laugh.

“I like your front teeth,” Eddie says, shoving his finger in Richie’s mouth to poke at them. Richie laps at the finger like a dog and then pulls away, laughing. “They’re cute.”

“Shut up,” Richie laughs.

“I’m serious, Richie, I didn’t just think of this now,” Eddie says. “Oh, man, they’re so fucking cute. They make your smile so goddamn adorable it kills me.”

Richie grins, wide. “You trying to sweet talk me into blowing you?”

“I never was gonna ask you to blow me,” Eddie says. “I want to blow you.”

Richie chokes. “What?!”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “That sound better?”

“Fuck,” Richie breathes. “You know you have to put my dick in your mouth for that, right?”

“Yes, Richie, I know how a blowjob works,” Eddie says.

“Is that hygienic?” Richie asks. “Can you use a condom for that?”

“I’m gonna ask you to wash your dick,” Eddie says. “But nah, wasn’t planning on using a condom. We’re both clean, and there’s not really much risk of bacterial infections. But you do have to pee after or you might get a urinary tract infection, so…”

“Jesus Christ,” Richie manages. “You gonna swallow too?”

“Seems like the easiest way to clean up, yeah,” Eddie says.

Richie blushes bright red. “Fuck!”

Eddie grins, watching Richie for a moment longer. He still feels a little sick in his stomach, thinking of tiny little Richie, with the way Patrick loomed over him back in those days, and saying…

“Fuck, man, if I could go back in time and beat the everliving fuck out of Patrick for terrorizing little baby Richie, I would. You’d know me as the weird-ass twenty three year old who stormed into the men’s locker room to beat your bully into a pulp so you’d probably be terrified of me for reasons you didn’t understand when baby me started growing up, but hey.”

“Hell,” Richie says, “if you’d showed up, taller than me, beating the crap out of Patrick Hockstetter, saying you’re Eddie from the future where we’re boyfriends who kiss all the time, I would have bowed down before you and worshiped you like a god. Right after I was done swooning like an actual storybook princess.”

“Oh, man if you’d have told me we were gonna end up together when I was 13…” Eddie says.

“What you’d have offed yourself on the spot?” Richie teases.

“I’d have asked how gross you are in bed,” Eddie says. “And then I’d have gone… well that’s a relief, don’t have to worry about crushes anymore.”

“What would you say?” Richie asks, grinning over the worry about crushes. He’d found that very entertaining when Eddie had told him that crushes were stressful even when you had them strategically, because you were supposed to.

“About what?” Eddie asks. “Crushes? Screw ‘em.”

“About how gross I am in bed,” Richie clarifies. “But yeah, that’s pretty much what I did and I’m pretty happy.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’d take my dumb, tiny little self who was just learning how to masturbate without my mom finding out and I’d tell him you’re a fucking dream in bed, and then I’d let our dumb teenage asses try to figure out what the fuck that means.”

“Wow, you’re an asshole,” Richie laughs.

“Why, what would you say to your teenage kid self about the kind of sex you’re going to have as an adult?” Eddie says, slinging an arm around Richie.

“I’d say,” Richie says, “you know that look Eddie gets when he does this thing?” He makes a karate chopping motion, and goddamn, Eddie does do that. All the time. “Get ready to have that distilled and pounded into your brain so fucking hard you can’t do jack shit but hang on for the ride. And also your ass.”

“No,” Eddie says. “That is not something you can tell a 13 year old boy.”

“Fine, I’d leave out the ass part,” Richie says.

“It’s all inappropriate!”

“Uh, you would have just beaten Patrick Hockstetter into smithereens in front of me,” Richie says. “I’d know.”

“Fine, then I’d tell 13 year old me that you’re a needy, soft mess in bed,” Eddie says. “And that you drool over me bossing you around.”

“God, Eds, think of the children,” Richie laughs.

Eddie kicks him softly in the thigh.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” Richie says. “What’s next?”

“Um,” Eddie says. “Doctor roleplay. If you’re into that?”

“Aw, man, it was first on my list,” Richie whines. “It was gonna be a great joke.”

“Not really,” Eddie retorts, smiling. “But then… you like it?”

Richie nods. “Yeah. Be pretty hot to have you do a prostate exam. Tell me to stop squirming so you can be professional and call me Mr. Tozier and shit.”

“I have a few more ideas,” Eddie says, winking.

“Shit, Eds, you trying to kill me?” Richie whines.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing out his list.

“What’s the last one?”

“Cleaning kink,” Eddie says, probably blushing.

Richie bursts out laughing. “You seriously wrote that?”

Eddie hands him the paper.

Richie laughs harder. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I mean, like, I’d get you in a bath,” Eddie says, “and I’d wash you all over and your hair and there would be a lot of really nice touching with a soap that smells really nice. And like, maybe I’d do your nails too, just to hold your hands, and… and like, when you’re nice and clean and warm and you smell nice, then I’d fuck you.”

Richie grins, preening with happiness. “That’s so cuuuuuute,” he says. “Cute cute cute!”

Eddie shoves a foot into his chest and nudges him pointedly. “Shush, you.”

“Never!”

“What’re yours?” Eddie asks. “C’mon, read it for the class.”

Richie giggles, and Eddie smiles at the laugh, resting his chin on his knees to watch him properly. “Okay,” Richie says, clearing his throat like he’s up before the class presenting his project. “Medical kink, obviously.”

Eddie nods. “Obviously.”

“Um,”  Richie says, already losing all of his hard earned momentum. “Jealousy?”

Eddie raises his brow. “You hate it when I get jealous.”

“I don’t though, I just don’t like… like being accused of looking when I wasn’t. Because I wouldn’t. But it’s… like… it’s hot?”

Eddie cocks his head. “So how would we do that?”

“I don’t actually know,” Richie says. “But I… like… I really want to? Like, I want you to get all possessive, but… I don’t know.”

Eddie frowns. “Okay. We’ll work on it. Try some things.”

Richie’s shoulders relax. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks.”

Eddie smiles at him softly.

“And then… um… blindfolds? Bev says they make things really intense and you know I like to be overwhelmed into a stupor.”

Eddie grins. “I like that too.”

“And… um… also I wanna try… like, you calling me a slut,” Richie mumbles.

Eddie blinks at him. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t know… um… if I’ll like it or hate it,” Richie says. “Honestly. But like… talking to me like I literally can’t help wanting to be fucked. Like… like um… I don’t know, it’s not… like, my choice. Like I’d fuckin’ die without some cock to tide me over.”

Eddie slowly pieces that together. He’s stopped guilty about having gotten them together lately, but Eddie remembers the start, when it had been an unsaid burden in all their conversations. That he didn’t want sex to be his fault.

“I… actually had something similar planned for the doctor thing,” Eddie murmurs. “But less mean.”

Richie lets out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Less mean is… that’s good.”

“I think you’ll like it,” Eddie says. “But tell me if you don’t, okay?”

Richie holds up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Good boy,” Eddie says. “We can do it tomorrow night, if you want.”

“I have to wait that long?” Richie whines.

“Yes,” Eddie snorts. “I’m tired and I wanna cuddle. And maybe grind against each other and play some video games.”

“Wanna play some Mortal Combat?”

“No but I’ll sleep on your shoulder while you play.”

“Deal,” Richie says, and happily flops onto Eddie’s chest.

Chapter Text

“Alright, I have to say,” Eddie says, “putting on a tie for sex is very weird.”

Richie grins, biting his lip. “I’m not complaining.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, putting his hands on his hips while he looks down at himself. He’s wearing a dark red button up, sleeves folded up above his elbows, a flowery tie Richie had gotten for him when they’d attended an event at Bev’s shop, slacks and a pair of loafers. “You like it?”

Being a surgeon means Eddie spends most of his time in scrubs. He doesn’t have to dress up much, but when he does it’s usually with a blazer. This is the first time he’s worn a dress shirt like this, and Richie had watched with laser focus when Eddie was rolling up his sleeves. He watches just as closely as Eddie snaps on his gloves.

Richie nods. “It’s a good look for you.”

Richie, on the other hand, is in his boxers, sitting on the edge of the bed. Eddie hopes he’s not freezing cold. He’d turned up the heat as far as he could without getting a dirty look from Stan.

“Well, maybe I’ll get dressed up for bed more often,” Eddie says, straightening his tie.

Richie beams at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Let’s see how this goes,” Eddie laughs. “But I’m sure we can come up with excuses.”

Richie all but bounces on the edge of the bed, pleased.

Eddie clears his throat. He tries to take on his hospital voice. As a resident, he doesn’t talk too much to patients, but he’s delivered a few post-surgery talks to the family, and he thinks the key is to take his usual lecturing and slow it down. Apparently, if he doesn’t slide into nervous word vomit, he sounds fairly authoritative on instinct.

Go figure.

“Well, Mr. Tozier, what seems to be the problem?” he asks. He’d borrowed the clipboard from Patty, who had given him a look like she’d realized what it was going to be used for right away.

“I’m so damn horny my dick’s about to fall off, doc,” Richie says.

Eddie has to screw up his nose for a moment in order to refrain from laughing. Already. “I see,” he says. “Have you been getting enough attention lately, Mr. Tozier?”

“Oh, not at all,” Richie drawls, grinning. “My Eddie has been so absorbed in his work, he’s almost entirely forgotten me.”

Eddie would feel bad for him, but Richie’s swinging his feet and giving him a smug little look, like he’s just daring Eddie to break character and remind him that Eddie has spent all his free time lately curled up on top of Richie (snoring, but still) or sleepily acting as a sounding board for the new jokes that Richie intends to use on tour. (Occasionally while Eddie is taking a shower.)

“Awful,” Eddie says indulgently. “We’ll have to do some tests to see how bad the situation is, but it seems like I’ll have to have a talk with your husband after this.”

The word is out of his mouth before he realizes, and there’s a moment of bewildered silence in which both of them stare at each other, still registering what’s going on. Whenever Eddie talks about patients, it’s to family. A husband or wife, not a boyfriend. He doesn’t know if this is a sore point, so he says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spring that on--”

“In that case,” Richie interrupts loudly, not breaking character at all. “You should be calling me Mr. Kaspbrak, Dr. K.”

Eddie blinks at him.

“It’s my husband’s dad’s name,” Richie says, a little softer. “And it means a lot to him.”

Eddie nearly cries, swallowing hard. “Well,” he chokes out. Richie Kaspbrak Richie Kaspbrak Richie Kaspbrak! his brain shouts. “I will make sure to fix that in our paperwork, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

“Please do,” Richie says, pompous. “My husband has a terrible temper.”

“I’ll be sure to apologize to him for this grave error,” Eddie says dryly. He likes the way the word husband sounds on Richie’s tongue. “Now, back to your problem.”

“My wilting, abandoned dick?” Richie asks, swinging his feet.

Eddie sighs, holding Richie’s eyes with his own. “Yes, Mr. Kaspbrak. It seems you’re a very needy boy who’s been sorely neglected.”

Richie lets out an undignified snort. “A needy boy,” he echoes.

Eddie raises a brow, keeping a straight face on sheer force of will, because he’s pretty sure if Richie likes this, he’ll really like it. “This is no laughing matter, Mr. Kaspbrak. It can be very dangerous for a needy boy like you to go too long without a good fucking.”

Richie shivers and bites his lip a little harder, nodding. “Sorry, Dr. K.”

He sets down the clipboard and takes Richie’s head in his hands, tugging his hair gently so he can tilt Richie’s head and pretend to inspect his ears. “It’s quite normal, Mr. Kaspbrak,” he says. “I imagine you’re desperate for attention.”

“That’s me,” Richie says, chuckling a little under his breath while Eddie tugs his head to the other side, eyes fluttering closed as Eddie fists his hair.

“Hmm,” Eddie says. “How long has it been since you were last fucked, Mr. Kasprak?”

“Two weeks at least,” Richie says as Eddie tilts his head back and runs his thumbs over his throat like he’s checking for swelling.

“Two whole weeks,” Eddie murmurs. “That’s very serious indeed. Say ah.”

Richie does as he’s asked, and Eddie puts a thumb in his mouth and presses down on his tongue. He watches Richie’s throat work, and ghosts his thumb over Richie’s front teeth as he pulls away. He gives Richie a look as if to say, cute little buck teeth. The corners of Richie’s mouth quirk into the beginnings of a smile.

“Am I gonna make it, doc?” Richie asks, eyes twinkling.

“Hm,” Eddie says. “We’ll see. I’m going to try something, and I’d like you to rate your need on a scale of 1 to 10. Can you do that for me, Mr. Kaspbrak?”

Richie nods.

“Try not to exaggerate,” Eddie says. “I know it’s difficult for someone so deprived of attention as you, but we don’t want to skew the results.”

“Yessir,” Richie says.

Eddie smiles and kisses him, nice and soft, then pulls back. “How was your need for that, Mr. Kaspbrak?”

“Hmm,” Richie says, watching him closely. “Maybe… a six?”

“A six already,” Eddie murmurs. “Very worrisome. And if I do this…?”

He tilts Richie’s head back and prods his mouth open with his tongue this time, running it over the roof of his mouth and his teeth and nipping Richie’s bottom lip as he pulls back.

“Oh, definitely up to a seven,” Richie breathes.

Eddie clicks his tongue. “A seven.”

He pulls Richie’s head to the side and kisses the inside of his shoulder. “And now?”

“Eight,” Richie says. “Deeefinitely an eight.”

Eddie sucks a hickey into his shoulder. 

“Ooh, that’s a nine,” Richie manages.

Eddie draws back and looks Richie in the eyes as he reaches down to cup Richie’s dick in one gloved hand. “And if I do this?” he asks, resting his hand there. 

Richie whines and bucks up into his hand without meaning to. “Ten.”

“Ten?” Eddie says, lowering his voice. “Rating your need a ten shouldn’t be taken lightly, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

Richie whimpers, hips jerking. “But doc, I feel like I’m gonna combust.”

“Really?” Eddie says, thumbing at the head. “Does it feel like you can’t stand a second longer without being fucked?”

Richie nods desperately.

“Is it all you can think about?”

“Yeah, yeah doc, I want it,” Richie gasps. “I want it so bad.”

“Are you experiencing intense, overwhelming cravings to be spread open and fucked until you’re screaming, Mr. Kaspbrak?” Eddie asks. He still hasn’t moved his hand, but he presses two fingers to Richie’s hip to keep him still.

“Yes,” Richie moans. “Yes, yeah, all of it, everything.”

Eddie pulls away, and Richie nearly sobs. “I see. In that case, this may be even more serious than I thought. I’ll need to check your prostate, and then I’ll give your husband my diagnosis.”

“How are you so good at this?” Richie whines. “Fuck!”

Eddie grins. “I’m a professional,” he says. “Lie back, Mr. Kaspbrak. Get comfortable.”

Richie flops down onto the bed, legs dangling awkwardly. “Fuckin’ perfect-ass boyfriend just waltzin’ in here with a full sex doctor role ready to go…” he grumbles to himself under his breath.

Eddie bites down a grin as he gets the lube and coats his fingers, standing over Richie as he lowers his fingers to Richie’s hole.

“Oh, I like that,” Richie mumbles. “You looking down at me like that in that shirt.”

Eddie laughs despite himself. “Mr. Kaspbrak,” he teases. “What would your husband think?”

“Fly into a jealous rage, I’m sure,” Richie fires back, grinning.

Eddie pushes a finger inside, and Richie rolls his hips.

“Mr. Kaspbrak,” Eddie says sharply. “I’m going to need you to stay still. If you keep moving, I’ll have to restart the procedure until I’m finished.”

“Oh,” Richie says, and yes, Eddie did read his offhand comments last night correctly, because his cock twitches at that. “I’ll try my darnedest, doc.”

Eddie smiles and presses another finger inside Richie. He makes sure to stretch him enough to fuck him after this, but he merely runs his fingers over his prostate, feeling it like this really is a prostate exam.

Staying still is hard for Richie. He’s energetic, especially when he’s feeling a lot. He keeps jerking under Eddie’s ministrations, and Eddie just tutts and puts a hand on his hip to remind him to keep still.

At this rate, Eddie’s going to keep gently nudging his prostate for half the night.

Richie clearly realizes that too, because he’s gasping and choking out little noises with the effort of trying to stay still, getting even more worked up. “Sorry, doc,” he manages, breathless. “I’m trying my best here.”

“It’s quite normal,” Eddie says. “It’s difficult for a needy boy like you to control himself.”

Arousal is taking Richie over, because he doesn’t laugh at “needy boy” this time, just moans, taking deep breaths and stilling his hips. Eddie presses his hand on one of them, firm. “One more time, Mr. Kaspbrak. I’m sure you can do it.”

Richie lets out a long puff of breath, nodding.

Eddie rubs circles into Richie’s prostate, holding his hips tight. He can feel Richie shaking with the effort it takes not to move, can feel him get tense under Eddie, unsure how long he has to do this.

He feels Richie’s hip twitch, incremental, under his hand, and hears Richie’s breath catch as he realizes how close he came to failing again. He takes mercy on Richie and withdraws his fingers.

Richie lets out a surprisingly forceful sigh of relief, relaxing into the sheets. He reaches up to push the hair out of his face, sweaty and quivering.

It would be easy enough to go serious from here. Richie’s worked up, pliant. He’s not being mouthy. Eddie could keep going with this role and do something really sexy with it, probably.

But it would be just as easy to make Richie laugh, and Eddie can’t help it. “In all my years as a sex doctor I’ve never seen as needy a boy,” he says. “I’m afraid you’re coming down with a case of dick fever.”

Richie laughs like it surprises him that he’s laughing, a loud, uncontrollable bark that dissolves into giggles.

Eddie grins, very proud of himself. “I’m going to have to discuss this with your husband, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

“Dick fever,” Richie wheezes, curling in on himself as he laughs. “Jesus shit, Eds.”

Eddie grins so hard it hurts his face, pulling off the gloves and discarding them before kicking off his loafers. “Want me to stay dressed?” he asks.

Richie manages to nod from where he’s crying laughing.

Eddie laughs with him as he clambers into bed and straddles him. “Well, Richie Kaspbrak, I’ve talked to the doctor,” he says, “and it seems I haven’t been taking very good care of my needy, needy boy.”

“Oh, my dear Edward, I’m comin’ down with a case of dick fever,” Richie cries in his Southern drawl. “I am positively dyin’ of neglect.”

“Are you seriously doing the Southern gal right now?” Eddie says, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth.

“I can’t help it,” Richie cries, throwing his arms around Eddie dramatically. “I just a poor needy househusband, in desperate need of a good fuckin’!”

Eddie nods. Two could play at this game. He can’t do the accent as well, but he can match the drama. “The doctor told me,” he says. “He said if the dick fever takes hold, you’ll be overcome by honry madness. All you’ll be able to think about is getting dicked down real good.”

“Oh, I already feel it startin’, my dear Edward!” Richie says, hooking one leg around Eddie. “Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a good cock inside me!”

“Oh, just any old cock?” Eddie teases.

Richie stills a little, but he’s still riding the high of his playing around, and it seems that arousal and good cheer takes precedence over the worry that maybe he’s done something wrong. “Of course not, my dear Edward,” he says, and doing one of his voices seems to get him back on track. “Only my husband’s cock can satisfy this horribly needy boy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “You’re my needy boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Richie breathes, pupils blown. “Oh, God, please fuck me, before the madness takes hold.”

Eddie undoes his belt slowly. “Yeah? Did you miss having me inside you that much?”

Richie whines. “Please,” he says, and he’s sliding in and out of the Southern drawl, like he can’t focus. “Fuck me.”

“You need it?” Eddie asks, discarding the belt and undoing his pants.

“Yes,” Richie breathes. “I need it so bad. Oh, I’ll die without your dick inside me.”

“Need me to take good care of you?” Eddie murmurs, rolling on the condom.

“Yes, yes,” Richie groans. “Please, oh, I’m going crazy. I’ll die, I’ll die!”

Eddie slicks himself up. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to give my sweet, needy boy my cock. I know how much you need it.”

“Yes!” Richie moans as Eddie finally pushes inside. “Oh, it’s so good, so hot and thick… oh, I’m dying, I need it!”

Eddie grins. He doesn’t think Richie’s even really acting anymore. “Don’t you worry, doll,” he says. “I’m not going to let my needy boy down any longer.”

He takes Richie’s legs into his arms and holds tight onto his hips and fucks into him, hard.

Richie mewls, hand slamming against the headboard as Eddie picks up the pace. “Fuck!” he cries. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I missed this, fuck yeah…”

“Two weeks and you’re already aching for my cock?” Eddie asks. “How are you going to survive on tour?”

“I won’t,” Richie manages. “Oh, God, I’m gonna be frothing at the mouth, gonna be so hungry for your cock the whole time, gonna be thinking about it on stage…” He giggles, almost hysterical and chokes out, “Dick fever, what the hell…”

Eddie moans, too into it to bother with Richie’s giggling, thrusting into him faster until it breaks into small moans and cries. Grinding against each other and giving handjobs is all well and good, Eddie thinks, but God does it feel good to fuck Richie properly again. Richie’s keening and reaching for him, legs spread and toes curling, and fuck does he look good doing it.

Eddie drops one of his legs to reach forward and jerk Richie off, hitting his prostate hard as he does it, and Richie’s coming all over himself.

Eddie stills, letting Richie get it together a little. “How’s that dick fever, sweetheart?”

Richie giggles with what air he has left in his lungs. “Dick fever,” he chuckles. “Fuck, Eds, the second I come out I’m gonna have the weirdest show just of the hilarious gay shit you’ve said.”

“You’re gonna stand up on a stage and tell the world I diagnosed you with dick fever?” Eddie asks, snorting.

“Someday,” Richie manages, blushing. “Someday, and it’s gonna kill, because fucking dick fever. Can you image that for real? You go to the doctor’s office and they come back and tell you, all serious, ‘sorry sir, you’ve got dick fever.’ Can you imagine?”

Eddie laughs too. “Fuck, how would you keep a straight face?”

“You wouldn’t,” Richie says, taking a few more deep breaths before patting Eddie’s thigh like he’s a horse that needs to be kicked into gear. “Now, come on, mah sweet husband!” He throws his wrist to his forehead in a dramatic swoon. “This needy boy’s still feelin’ awful hot an’ bothered!”

Eddie grins at him wolfishly. “Oh, Richie Kaspbrak, I think I can fix that.”

Chapter Text

“Stanley,” Eddie whispers.

“I already know I hate this,” Stan mutters. “What?”

“I’m freaking out.”

Stan sighs, sitting up to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. Patty groans, lifting her head to squint at Eddie.

Eddie clambers into space between them. “Richie’s flight is another three hours and I’m fucking have a panic attack. What if his plane crashes? How long does it take first responders to contact loved ones? What if we’re not home? I have work in the morning, should I stay home just in case? We’re his emergency contact, right, they’d call us? How does that work, I’ve never flown.”

“Eddie,” Stan says. “Lay down and breathe.”

Eddie does so, trying to count his breaths.

“He’ll be fine,” Patty mutters, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I feel like if I let my guard down the plane will go down for sure,” Eddie says, swallowing. It’s a catch 22. If he panics, he can’t stop imagining getting the call. If he calms down and the call comes anyway, it’s his fault somehow.

Stan sighs. “Eddie, you operate every day. Does your work get any worse if the families aren’t worrying?”

Eddie lets out a slow breath. “No.”

“Yeah,” Stan says. “So if you calm down, it’s still gonna be the same plane. Same pilot. The chances of anything bad happening are the same, and they’re very, very small.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie says.

“Patty, remind me not to let Richie take any more redeyes,” Stan says, wrapping himself around Eddie so he and Patty are sandwiching him. “If I get woken up at 3 am by these two more more time…”

“Oh, shush,” Patty says sleepily. “You’re going to complain and continue to do exactly what you’ve always done.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

She mumbles incoherently, and they both doze off again.

Eddie tries to fall asleep after that, but it’s all fitful naps with awful dreams. Thank God he’d had the foresight not to take a morning shift tomorrow. He can sleep until 11.

The phone rings at 5 am, and Eddie nearly elbows Stan in the face scrambling out of his bed and into the living room to pick it up. “Hello?” he asks, heart beating. Richie’s flight ended 40 minutes ago, but if it had gone down midway then…

“Hi,” Richie says. “Thought you’d want to know that I landed okay.”

Eddie has to sit down on the floor with relief. “Yeah.”

“Would’ve called earlier, we landed early,” Richie says, “but I figured I’d call from the hotel, just in case you were so keyed up you’d end up thinking about whether or not I’d get kidnapped by a taxi driver to have my organs harvested.”

“Well now I’m think about that,” Eddie says, swallowing down panic and tears. This is stupid, he tells himself. Fucking dumb as hell. None of these things are worries worth having. “Did you bolt the hotel room door? Is there a chain? Fuck, maybe you can do something to set up some kind of warning system.”

“Eds,” Richie says, stifling a laugh. “Breathe.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, okay,” he mutters. “Jeez, I sound like my mom.”

“No you don’t,” Richie says. “You just have anxiety. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Ay-ay cap’n,” Richie says, then laughs, obnoxious. “Get some sleep, alright? I’m a hundred percent fine. Gonna pass out until it’s time to set up for the show. We sold out last night.”

“Hell, Richie, that’s amazing,” Eddie says. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Hell yeah,” Richie says. He sounds sleepy. “You’re gonna be watching, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Stan’s been grumbling but I know he can’t wait.”

“You’re gonna have to chase him out of bed before it starts with a broom, you know that right?”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah.”

“Good luck,” Richie says. “Call me after your shift ends, I’m gonna be freaking out.”

“I will.”

“G’night. Love you.”

“Goodnight,” Eddie murmurs. “Love you too.”

He hangs up.

“Is he dead yet?” Stan calls.

“No, he’s safe and sound in LA,” Eddie yells back.

“Oh, good.”

Eddie grins, shaking his head and collapsing into bed.

**

He’s had better shifts. He has to down a cup of coffee between nearly every surgery and he’s so exhausted he actually sits down on the subway and nearly sleeps through his stop. He takes a shower, then calls Richie. “Hey, I’m home,” he says. “I might take a nap before your show but I wanted to check in first.”

“Cool,” Richie says, strangled. “I thought about just bolting. Like, just escaping into the sea or something. Like, there’s gotta be some islands near Cali, right? I can swim there.”

“Mhmm,” Eddie murmurs. “Yeah, give it a try. Send me a little message in a bottle.”

“Fuck off, man, I’m gonna puke on stage.”

“No you’re not,” Eddie says, even though he puts the chances of Richie puking on stage at about 60%. “You’re gonna get up there and you’re gonna do what you always do.”

“Start talking?” Richie manages.

“I was gonna say annoy everyone so much it wraps back around into being charming,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, but that’s the thing,” Richie says. “What if I’m just annoying? And you guys all got used to it?”

Eddie snorts loudly. “Rich,” he says. When Richie had started out of the gate, Eddie had assumed it had been mostly the gay thing that had prompted him to do other people’s jokes. But apparently it wasn’t just that. “You’re really fucking funny. People come to your shows. They wanted you on tour.”

“Fuck,” Richie says. “Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You’ve wanted to do this forever,” Eddie says. “Of course you can.”

“Yeah, but I figured someone else’d be writing the material,” Richie says. “And I’d just be the pretty face.”

Eddie laughs. “No you didn’t. You just got nervous and tried to hide behind someone else’s jokes. But you’ve always been thinking of your own bits. Since I’ve known you.”

“I mean,” Richie says, “let’s not pretend the long-running streak of ‘fucked your mom’ jokes were good.”

“No, they were terrible,” Eddie says. “And you overused it, because you’re a hyper little jackass who needs to talk all the time. But you have more than just that joke. And you’ve planned out your material this time, with all best jokes, and you’re gonna be great.”

“Okay, well, don’t appreciate being called a jackass,” Richie replies. “But okay. I feel better.”

“Can I take a nap now? Wanna be awake for your whole show so I can heckle you after.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Richie says.

“Don’t call me Eds.”

“Love you too.”

Eddie snorts, hanging up so he can set an alarm and sleep a little before they all get together to watch the show.

**

Eddie finds himself crammed between Bev and Patty, because Bill is also couch sized but he’d decided to sit on the floor with Mike’s arm slung over the cushions behind him, putting Stan on the couch instead. Eddie glares at the back of his head, trying to communicate that it’s rude to throw off everyone else’s sitting positions to get cozy with someone you insist you aren’t dating, but to no avail.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” Bev yells, drumming on Ben’s head in front of her. “It’s starting.”

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome… Richie Tozier!

They all cheer, even Stan and Ben. Bev puts her hands to her mouth and screams, elbowing Eddie excitedly. “He’s on TV! Look at him!” she yells.

“Sssh, sssh,” Stan says, whacking Eddie like Eddie has any control over what Bev does. “I wanna hear him!”

“Hello!” Richie says, waving at the crowd. He’s dressed in an awful assortment of clothes: purple jeans and a Hawaiian shirt jam packed with so many greens, pinks and purples, it’s nausea inducing, thrown over a shirt with a pacman logo. 

“Now I know you’re all expecting me to start this show off with some really relatable observation - because as we all know, observational humor is always solid - but I grew up in a small down in Maine and I honestly don’t know how people from real places live,” Richie says. He takes the microphone off the stand so he can move as he talks.

“He’s so fucking nervous,” Eddie whispers.

“I know,” Bev whispers back.

“Sssh, he’s doing fine,” Stan says. “Don’t jinx it.”

“You know how weird small towns in Maine get?” Richie says. “One summer, my friends and I were trying to figure out what we’re gonna do with all our free time. You know, go to the arcade, get ice cream, go swimming… But then my friend Bill goes, ‘Yeah, okay, but what if instead we climbed into the sewers to hunt a clown?’”Bill snorts loudly, “and we all went, ‘Yeah, sure, that sounds as good an idea as any.’ And that was the better half of our summer.”

The crowd laughs, though it’s confused for now. Eddie grins. “No one on this planet was ready for Richie to get popular,” Stan says, laughing. “He’s been let loose.”

“They’re not gonna know what to do with him,” Ben says.

“Love him, of course,” Eddie says. “They’re gonna fucking love him.”

**

Richie calls three times every day. He seems frazzled, vibrating with excitement and nerves, and Eddie guesses he’s going to crash the second he lets himself relax. “You sure about the whole not jacking off thing?” Eddie asks him a week in. “I didn’t expect this all to be so much.”

“I’m good,” Richie says. “I’ve just been, like, doing jumping jacks. I feel like I’ve stuck my entire face into a light socket.”

“Wow, really encouraging,” Eddie laughs. “Jack off if you want.”

“Nono,” Richie insists. “I cannot tell you how amped I am to know that the second I get home you’re gonna fuck my brains out.”

“Mhmm,” Eddie says. “Well okay. But take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah yeah,” Richie says. “Yep. I’m gonna see if this hotel room has a documentary channel, I’m gonna try to calm down with a wildlife documentary. Fuck! Did you see how hard they laughed?”

“I did,” Eddie says, not for the first time. “You’re gonna sleep for three days after you get home, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, you and Stan are gonna starve to death. Is Patty feeding you?”

“Nope, she hates cooking. We’ve just been ordering takeout.”

“I’m gonna bake an entire fucking gross of cupcakes when I get home,” Richie says. “A hundred forty-four cupcakes. Gonna stock the entire fucking apartment full of cupcakes, we’ll be eating them for a week.”

“Maybe put some thought into that one,” Eddie says.

“No thinking, only jazz!” Richie yells.

“What?”

“I don’t know but I’m fucking gonna die,” Richie says. “Okay, I’m laying down. Is this a panic attack? Like, can you have a panic attack out of good feelings?”

“Deep breaths,” Eddie says. “Okay? In. Out. In. Out.”

Richie breathes with him loudly. 

“Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Richie says. “Wowee, Eds, I’m famous.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

“I miss you. I wanna snuggle.”

“Me too,” Eddie says. “It’s so hard to sleep without you in the bed.”

“Yeah,” Richie says. “Yeah, I’ve been passing out every night from being on stage all day, but fuck. It sucks waking up alone.”

“Another week,” Eddie says. “And you’re doing so fucking great.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Richie yells. “Ooh, there’s a documentary on shrimp. That’s gotta be lowkey enough.”

“Let’s hope,” Eddie says. “You’re gonna fucking explode soon.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go and do some more jumping jacks. Iloveyoubye.”

“Love you too,” Eddie manages, before Richie hangs up.

**

The next day, Eddie goes to a sex shop and buys a cockring, because he can already tell Richie’s going to need several rounds of fucking when he gets home.

**

When Richie gets home, he gets a hug from Stan and Patty.

“Did you guys cook at all?” Richie asks.

“No. And Patty said she’d leave me before making me homemade croutons when the store bought ones are just as cheap,” Stan says.

“I don’t love you like Richie does,” Patty says.

Richie grins, then looks at Eddie with puppy dog eyes.

Eddie just gives him a small peck on the lips and orders him into the shower. Richie grins and salutes him, scampering to the bathroom.

“You’re gonna want to put on some music,” Eddie informs Stan. “For a while.”

“I guessed as much,” Stan says. “Hope you like fucking to Rick Astley.”

“Joke’s on you,” Eddie replies. “We do.”

Richie runs across the living room in his boxers to skid into their bedroom at full speed, and Stan sighs as something crashes and shatters. “You two are genuinely a nightmare.”

“He’s only in it for the homemade croutons,” Patty offers from the kitchen counter.

“Fair warning,” Eddie says, “tomorrow you may have to forcibly stop Richie from baking a lot of cupcakes.”

“Naturally,” Patty says.

Eddie clears his throat and tries to be casual about joining Richie in the bedroom.

“I’m literally about to die,” Richie blurts immediately. “I’m so fucking horny.”

“Alright, hold your horses,” Eddie laughs, sitting down on the bed beside him to brush his damp hair aside and kiss him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Richie says, immediately placated. At least in comparison to what he had been before.

“So,” Eddie says. “You’re up for no hands?”

Richie nods feverishly. “So up for it. Hell, I’m above it. Wait, no, that’s…”

Eddie hears Never Gonna Give You Up echoing distantly from the other room. “I know what you mean.”

“Please, Eddie, c’mon,” Richie whines. “I wanna do it.”

“One second,” Eddie says. “I have a thought about the jealousy thing. You up for that too? You’re a little bit jittery.”

“What kind of thought?” Richie asks. “Like, maybe I cheated on you while I was away because no fuckin’ way.”

“God, no,” Eddie says. “No, not even as a roleplay. I just thought… well. A lot of people were looking at you these past two weeks, huh?”

“A whole lot,” Richie blurts. “Holy shit, Eddie, holy shit!”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, softly. “And I wanna do something with that. If you’re okay to do something like that right now.”

“I think so,” Richie mumbles.

“Remember your safeword?”

Richie nods. “But Eds, to be fair, I don’t think any of them were undressing me with their eyes.”

“Only to dress you in better clothes,” Eddie teases. “But no. That’s not it. I’ll show you, but only if you feel okay to try something new.”

“Okay,” Richie says, looking him up and down, slightly wary.

Eddie just smiles and reaches over to tug his boxers down, just slowly enough to make Richie squirm. “They all loved you,” Eddie says softly. “And they should. You were hilarious up there. Not to mention charming.”

“Hell yeah,” Richie says, albeit quietly. Eddie smiles and rubs his belly a little before reaching for the gloves and lube. 

“I’d never ask anyone to love you less,” Eddie says. “But you know I find you funniest, right?”

Richie makes a strangled noise at that. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie says, warming the lube on his fingers. “I’ve found you hilarious since kindergarten.”

“Kindergarten is not really a word you wanna hear while someone’s shoving their fingers up your ass but okay,” Richie says weakly.

Eddie snorts as he pushes his middle finger in to the second knuckle. “See? Funny. I find you very, very funny. Even funnier than any of the people in the crowd, because I’ve been watching you craft all your jokes and I’ve heard all the sweet, dumb jokes that didn’t make the cut.”

Richie’s jaw has dropped at some point. Maybe Eddie should compliment him more.

“Isn’t that right?” Eddie says. “Tell me you know how funny I find you.”

“You find me really, really funny,” Richie says, like he’s waiting for a treat for his trick, and Eddie rewards him by pressing in another finger.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “And I love you more than them too, right?”

That makes Richie’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs. “I hope the whole world learns to love you. You deserve it. But I’m always gonna love you even more.”

Richie beams at him. “Boy, you’re gonna have to love me a lot to keep up with all those people, Eds.”

“I do,” Eddie says. “And then some.”

Richie’s beaming quiets a little, but the sunshine radiating from it doesn’t dim. “Wow. That’s a lot.” Eddie grins and strokes his prostate. Richie groans. “Oh, man, that feels good.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “You can soak up all that attention and love, but you come home to me, because I know how to take care of you.” Richie’s breath hitches, pleased, but to Eddie it sounds a little too much like his mother, so he adds, “Because I love you and I learn all the things you want and need, right?”

Richie smiles softly and brushes his fingers up Eddie’s arm. “Yeah. Yeah, Eds, you know me inside and out.” He rolls his hips playfully. “Literally.”

Eddie returns the smile, scissoring his fingers and watching as Richie’s head falls back with a groan. “Missed you,” he says softly.

“Missed you too,” Richie says, swallowing hard. “Fuck, man, I missed your smell.”

“Next time I guess you’ll have to take my clothes,” Eddie says.

“Tempting,” Richie says, gasping as Eddie stretches him, hitting his prostate a few times for good measure.

Eddie laughs, pulling back to take off the glove and his clothes. “Then you could come back after every show, wrap yourself in my scent and remember who you belong to.”

“Your scent,” Richie laughs. “What are you, a cat?”

“Meow,” Eddie chuckles, stroking himself a few times to get himself to full hardness so he can slide on the cockring and then a condom.

Richie giggles, then moans as Eddie presses inside. “Oh, yeah.”

“That’s it,” Eddie says. “You needed this, didn’t you?”

“Oh, God, so bad,” Richie whines.

“The whole world was watching you and loving you,” Eddie says. “But you’re mine, aren’t you? You need to come home to me, show you how much I love you, have me take good care of you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie whines. “Fuck. Fuck, yeah, I need you. I need you so bad, you take such good care of me.”

Eddie smiles. Richie can babble during sex, he just needs to be told what to say.

“And why do I take such good care of you?” Eddie asks, rolling his hips.

“Because you love me and think I’m funny,” Richie manages. “And sweet and good and other stuff.”

Eddie can’t help giggling at that. “Yeah, especially the other stuff.”

Richie manages a breathless smile, but he’s already collapsing into moans at the pace Eddie sets right off the bat. “Ooh, fuck, fuck, that’s good, that’s…”

Eddie picks up his legs and slings them over his shoulders, shifting his angle until Richie cries out. “Good?” he asks. “How’s that angle?”

“Oh, fuck, so good, so fucking good, fuck fuck, Eddie,” he whines, grasping at Eddie’s shoulder. “Oh, fuck, I missed you, I thought about this all the time, even on stage…”

“Yeah?” Eddie says, electricity jolting through him. “Stood up there in front of all those people, laughing and adoring you, and thought about my cock inside you?”

Richie nods feverishly. “Eddie, God, Eddie, fuck me…!”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers. “That’s fucking hot.”

Richie moans, small noises burbling out of his lips.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Eddie says. “All mine. I’ll share, because you deserve the whole damn world, but you’re mine.”

“Yes!” Richie cries. “God, I’m yours, all yours, I’m so fucking gone for you Eddie, you have no idea…”

“I can hazard a guess,” Eddie laughs, fucking him harder and nailing all the right spots so that Richie sobs and clings to him for dear life. “I’m pretty gone on you myself.”

“Tell me I was good,” Richie pleads, sobbing. “Tell me I was really good up there?”

Eddie’s heart softens even as he thrusts into Richie with all the force he can muster. “You were fucking amazing. We all sat here and watched you and we all cheered for you. And we all laughed, even Stan. Stan laughed his ass off, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

Richie lets out a desperate chuckle, tears in his eyes. “God, keep… keep telling me how much you love me.”

“Fuck I love you,” Eddie says. “You’re mine, and I love you so much. Love your weird-ass shirts and your crazy fuckin’ hair and your glasses and your eyes…”

Richie whimpers, nodding in a silent plea for Eddie to keep going.

“Oh, fuck, Rich, I looked at you up there and thought, that’s my boy and every time they fucking laughed and cheered for you I was so fucking proud. I was so happy. I kept thinking God, yeah, right? That’s my boy, my love, my baby. That’s mine and he’s so good! And so funny.”

He takes Richie’s hand and squeezes hard, lacing their fingers together, and lets himself ramble. Lets himself say anything he can think of that he likes about Richie. He doesn’t want to know how many times he says the word funny or how many times he mentions that Richie has a hell of a lot of leg, maybe because he’s holding them, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s pretty sure Richie won’t remember anything but a steady stream of pleasure and slightly possessive praise. 

Richie fumbles at him, whining, and Eddie shifts his angle just a little to drag a helpless noise out of Richie. “Oh, fuck, fuck, there!” Richie shouts. “Yeah, God, Eddie’s, your dick is fucking magic, keep…!”

Eddie grins and speeds up, and Richie’s back bows, hands grasping wildly at Eddie’s neck and hair as he comes, mewling and crying.

Eddie stills, setting Richie’s feet down and letting him breathe. Or whatever counts as breathing when Richie looks utterly wrecked with his hair pressed for his sweaty forehead and tears streaming down his face.

“I wanna go twenty more rounds,” Richie chokes out.

“Okay, well, no,” Eddie says, laughing. “I’ll go up to five.”

“Mmm,” Richie says. “Okay, I’ll deal.”

Eddie snorts. “Dumbfuck,” he teases. He leans his weight onto Richie’s legs, pushing his knees nearly to his ears. “Ready to go?”

Richie sniffles and nods. “God, yeah, fuck me until I can’t walk, I’m not doing jack shit for the next few days.”

Eddie laughs. “Okay, sounds good.”

He doesn’t talk as much this round, but that doesn’t seem to put a damper on Richie’s enjoyment, because he whines and groans and claws at Eddie’s shoulders until he’s grasping at his hair for purchase and letting out noises like Eddie’s dragging the moans right out his throat with an iron fist.

His eyes roll back and Eddie keeps fucking him until he lets out a high pitched noise and comes, gasping for air until he collapses back into the sheets. “What the fuck,” he croaks. “How are you still hard?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie says. “I’m wearing a cock ring.”

Richie blinks at him, like he’s trying to dredge the pieces of his brain out of a thick fog. “You’re what?”

“I’m wearing a cock ring,” Eddie repeats. 

“What the fuck,” Richie manages, swallowing repeatedly.

Eddie laughs. “I knew you’d want to keep going, so…”

“How fucking hard are you right now?” Richie asks.

“Very,” Eddie says. “Like, seriously, my dick is rock solid. You could break a screwdriver on that thing right now.”

Richie lets out a helpless giggle. “Eddie,” he says. “You’d do that for me?”

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie asks. “Yeah, I’d put off coming to have you fall apart on my dick. You have any idea how you look?”

“Would you share that with the world?” Richie asks winking.

“Never,” Eddie says, more forcefully that he really means to. “This part is all for me.”

“I agree,” Richie laughs. “I’m all yours, ‘specially when I’m fucked out of my mind.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Another round?”

“Yeah, sure, before your rock dick falls off,” Richie replies, laughing as Eddie drives into him, forcing him to moan instead.

Eddie manages one more round before he’s too desperate to come, but by the third orgasm, Richie’s head is lolling, knees digging into Eddie’s sides. Eddie keeps rolling his hips and Richie jerks at Eddie’s every movement like he’s being electrocuted.

Eddie snorts. “I think you’re kind of done,” he says.

“Ye-HA! Yeah,” Richie sobs, wiping at his eyes. “I’m… um… I was… Hnnn…” He manages.

“You okay for me to come inside you?” Eddie asks, rolling his hips slowly without angling for Richie’s prostate.

Richie yelps, pushing at him desperate. “Nope, no, I’m… no. I think I can taste colors.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, pulling out. Richie keens at that too, then flops back like a dead fish.

He reaches for the tissues, but Richie shakes his head, flapping his hands at Eddie while he gulps down air. “Wait,” he chokes out. “Wait a… wait a sec…”

Eddie sits back on his heels, taking the cock ring off. “Don’t make me wait too long,” he says, softly. “I’m finally getting a look into that dick pain you keep talking about and I don’t think it’s for me.”

“On me,” Richie slurs. “Come… if it’s okay, come on… on me?”

Eddie cocks his head. “Like, on your chest?”

“Wherever,” Richie says. “I… since you said you’d swallow, I thought about, like, you coming inside me. Dripping out.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t care for putting his dick in someone’s ass without a condom. 

“That’s not for you,” Richie mumbles. “So um… this… this works?”

Eddie hums, stripping off the condom. “Sure, okay.” He pauses. “How’s it sound on your face?”

“Yeah,” Richie says, nodding and wiping away the usual overwhelmed tears. “Go f’rit.”

Eddie leans over him, pulling away the pillow under his head, and jerks himself off.

It doesn’t take a lot. He’s been on the edge for a fucking while.

He comes, gripping the headboard so he doesn’t just keel right over from the force of his orgasm. Cum drips onto Richie’s face, and once the stars in Eddie’s vision have cleared, it’s unbelievably gross. But Richie also lets out a helpless, “Nnnn!” and jerks like he’s feeling an aftershock of his earlier orgasms, and that is hot.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I really really need to personally wash your hair now.”

Richie laughs, and then bursts into tears. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I’m… everything is really a lot, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Yeah, it’s a lot. C’mon, I’ve got you.” He puts an arm around Richie and gets him up on his feet. He’s shaking too and Richie’s bowlegged and quivering, and it takes them a bit of effort to make it to the bathroom.

Stan’s currently playing Africa at full blast, and Richie giggles at that, through the tears.

“One foot after the other,” Eddie says softly. “Almost there.”

“I’m going to have to sleep in the bathtub,” Richie mumbles, but Eddie steers him into the bathroom nonetheless, getting into the tub with him.

He turns on the water, gently sitting Richie down and wiping his face clean of tears and cum. Richie stares up at him like he’s the second coming. “What?” Eddie jabs, smiling softly.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Richie slurs. “How’d I manage to snag you?”

“Oh, you dumb bastard,” Eddie says, kneeling before him. “I meant everything I said about you today, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Richie says. “Except say it again because you know how my brain falls over on its side after sex like a… like a thing that can’t get back up again.”

“A Volkswagen,” Eddie says, nodding sagely.

Richie giggles. “Sure.”

“You mean everything to me,” Eddie says, running his fingers through Richie’s long hair to make sure it’s clean. “And I love you. And I want everyone else to love you too.”

He grabs the shampoo and squeezes some into his hand, raking his fingers through Richie’s hair. He plays with it half to be thorough, half just to touch and tug at Richie’s curls. Richie sets his chin against Eddie’s chest, staring up at him with glimmering, warm eyes. “Wowza,” he says. “That’s really something.”

“Dork,” Eddie replies, kissing the top of his forehead and continuing his work.

“Oh, man, I was kidding about sleeping here before, but I don’t think I can get back up,” Richie mumbles.

“I’ll get you there,” Eddie promises.

He does end up having to carry Richie in a fireman’s carry and nearly smacks his head into the door frame, but he eventually gets Richie back to bed.

**

Richie wakes up at noon, feeling vaguely like he’s been hit by a bus. Apparently being high energy for two weeks is not agreeing with his head, because it aches like a bitch.

He groans, trying to gather his thoughts as he blinks at the far-too-bright room.

There’s a glass of apple juice and a store bought cupcake on the nightstand with a note saying, “Do NOT start baking cupcakes. Love you. <3 <3 <3”

Richie grins, kissing the note in sheer joy.

He’s absolutely going to bake some cupcakes as soon as he can drag himself out of bed.

Chapter Text

“Hey, do you ever wish I was a girl?” Richie asks, while Eddie is brushing his hair, sitting beside him and piling it over his head just to be a dick and watch the long curls flutter as Richie laughs.

“Excuse me?” Eddie replies, combing Richie’s hair out of his face so Richie can grin at him like he knows he’s in trouble.

“I’m just saying,” Richie says. “One of the only things I’ve ever heard you say you like about girls is that you like that they have nice hair.”

“And?” Eddie asks.

“And,” Richie says, like he’s noticing in real time that he doesn’t make any sense, “you like that my hair is long.”

“I swear to God, if the reason you grew out your hair is because you think I’d prefer a woman, I’ll shave you right here and now,” Eddie snaps.

“Nooo!” Richie whines, covering his hair with his hands like he really believes it. “I just like that you like it and I like how you brush my hair and I think it makes me look better too and also I like how you grab it during sex.”

“I like those things too,” Eddie says, narrowing his eyes. “You have beautiful hair.”

Richie slowly lowers his hands, pushing hair out of his face. “But, like,” he says, eyes flickering up and down Eddie. “You’re not… like, not into women.”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “Wow. What every woman wants to hear. I’m not not into you.”

“You could be bi,” Richie offers. “Like Patty.”

“Look,” Eddie says. “I’d probably touch a boob if the opportunity presented itself. So I cannot say with complete and utter conviction that I’m not bi. But I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were bi,” Richie says.

“I’m not bi.”

“You could probably throw a rock at bi if you tried.”

“What is this?” Eddie sighs, pushing Richie’s hair behind his ear. “What’s going on here?”

“I don’t know,” Richie says, pouting. “My mom wanted a girl. And sometimes I wonder, like, a little if maybe you’d be okay with me being a girl. Our lives would be easier. Sex’d be easier.”

“Do you just want to be fucked without needing to be prepped?” Eddie snorts.

Richie pauses. “I mean, yeah, sort of.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Rich.”

“I don’t know,” Richie whines. “I guess I just feel like a hassle sometimes.”

“You are a hassle,” Eddie says. “Being a girl wouldn’t change that.”

Richie laughs weakly. “Fuck you, then.”

Eddie groans, sliding down to press his nose to Richie’s. “I like that you’re a hassle. And I like that you’re a man.”

“Do you like my dick?” Richie asks, grinning wide.

“Is that what you need to hear for me to convince you that I like you the way you are?” Eddie asks, rolling his eyes before kissing Richie’s nose to remind him that he doesn’t mean it.

“I guess I just get, like, a buildup of feelings,” Richie says. “Like, I feel just a little bit too much or not enough about a bunch of things. I feel like I’m behind, but, like, on everything, and I don’t know what I’ve done wrong and nothing’s, like, actually bad, it’s just a feeling that sits there in my chest and… like…”

Eddie weaves his fingers into Richie’s hair and draws him closer. “I like your dick.”

Richie laughs, and Eddie smiles, feeling very accomplished. “I guess that helps,” he says. “But I don’t know, maybe you’re just being nice…”

Eddie grins. “Maybe it’s time to show you that dick a little love? Hm?”

Richie freezes. “Oh. You mean… um…”

He’s blushing. Eddie loves it. “Yes, Richie, I mean ‘um.’”

“You are so mean to me,” Richie mumbles, pouting theatrically.

“And I’m gonna suck your dick,” Eddie says, shoving him onto his back and straddling him. “So I think you’re breaking even.”

“Okay, okay, wait,” Richie breathes. “Okay, so I’ve… like… been thinking about this.”

“Mhmm?” Eddie murmurs, going still and letting Richie chew his lip nervously.

“Um… like you know in movies where… where like…” Richie mumbles, slowly, trying to sound it out, and Eddie tries so hard not to laugh at him teasingly, but half a smile breaks its way onto Eddie’s face and half a giggle rises in Richie’s throat as a response and Eddie wants to badly to lean into it. But he also wants Richie to finish his thought, so he schools his face and weaves his fingers through Richie’s hands so he can press them into the bed and lean over Richie with rapt attention. “Like, where… um…”

Eddie can’t help it. He laughs. “Do you want to act it out? We can play charades?”

Richie blushes even harder, but he pulls his hands away to play along. “You know, like…” He makes a confusing gesture of rolling his fingers into a ball and then smacking one hand with the other.

“You want me to hit you?” Eddie asks, laughing in confusion and possibly horror.

“No,” Richie moans, like he’d really expected Eddie to get his weird gestures. “No, just… you know…”

“I really don’t,” Eddie says. “Did Timmy fall down a well?”

“Shut up,” Richie mumbles, laughing despite himself. “Don’t Lassie me.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie laughs, trying to control himself. “Go on, take your time.”

“I um… you know when… like, they shove… um… shove each other up against a wall?” Richie asks, beet red.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says indulgently.

“That,” Richie manages.

Eddie stares at him, a giggle breaking loose from his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Canyousuckmydickagainstawall,” Richie blurts.

Eddie can’t stop laughing. “You want to stand?”

Richie nods, looking very small. “Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie says. “I’m… This is the limit for you? I’ve literally fucked you into oblivion but you can’t ask me to push you against a wall?”

“Stoooop!” Richie cries, covering his face. “It’s, like, really hot, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “You know you can just say these things, right?”

“It’s hard!”

Eddie snorts, slipping off of Richie and the bed. “C’mon, Lassie.”

“Wow, okay, so you’re assuring me that you don’t want me to be a girl by calling me a girl dog,” Richie huffs, trying to regain some dignity. “Guess you’re bi for bi- stiality, huh?”

“Every time I think you can’t say anything grosser than the things you’ve already said to me, you somehow manage,” Eddie sighs, wrapping his arms around Richie and lifting him for the final step he takes to the wall so Richie’s feet are off the ground as his back hits it.

All his breath leaves him at once and his lips part, eyes wide as he stares down at Eddie.

“Ooh, you like that, huh?” Eddie teases.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Richie mumbles, hands coasting over Eddie’s shoulders. “Yeah.”

“I think I want a thing too,” Eddie says. “But you’re not allowed to laugh.”

“I won’t,” Richie promises.

“Can you slide down?” Eddie asks. “Bend your knees and I’ll help you stay standing. So I’m taller.”

Richie laughs.

“I’m leaving you,” Eddie says, making a show of turning to go.

“Nono!” Richie giggles, grabbing onto him and tugging him back. He slides down, awkwardly stretching out his legs to support himself against the wall. “Look, look, I’m short, see? Please love me again.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, tightening his arm around Richie’s waist. “I guess I like you alright if you’re short.”

Richie beams at him. “Woo! I win.”

Eddie laughs, tilting Richie’s chin up with his free hand to kiss him harder, then weaving his hand into Richie’s long hair. “I think I win.”

“Yes, Mr. Tall,” Richie says, taking on a wanton tone. “So tall. Wow, I’m sooooo into how tall you are, my big, tall man.”

“Stop,” Eddie warns, kissing him.

Richie laughs against his lips, moaning when Eddie kisses him harder, pulling his hair. His fingers ghost over Eddie’s shoulders, behind his neck, like he’s not sure where he wants to touch first. Eddie loves how quickly his hands move, caught up in a wild desire to touch all of him at once.

He presses his body up against Richie’s, shoving him back against the wall with a small thud, just enough to knock the air out of Richie without the risk of possibly hurting him, and Richie’s fingers curl against the side of his neck, a whimper crawling up his throat.

Eddie pulls away, and Richie’s mouth follows his, a desperate pant dropping from his red lips.

Eddie tugs at his boxers, trying to get them down Richie’s thighs. Richie snorts, trying to help by lifting one leg, putting his weight into Eddie’s arms. Eddie squeezes him tighter as Richie tries to wriggle out of the boxers, but his legs are spread too far.

“Wait,” Richie says, laughing as he scoots back up the wall so he can stand properly. “Oh, my, you’ve gotten short again.”

Eddie uses the way his arms are wrapped around Richie to pinch his sides, drawing a small shriek out of him as he tries and fails to jerk away. “No!” he shouts, pulling back, but Eddie just giggles and holds him tighter, tickling harder and nearly getting hit in the face by a flailing elbow. “Eddie!”

Eddie snorts and lifts Richie off the ground and squeezing him tight enough to make Richie wheeze before putting him down and letting Richie kick the boxers - now around his ankle - to the ground.

“Behave,” Eddie scolds, mostly for Richie’s benefit, as he slides down to his knees, coasting his hands down Richie’s sides as he goes.

Richie’s jaw drops, kiss red lips twitching with the softest gasp. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Is this how stripper poles feel?

Eddie sighs. “For a moment there, you were really sexy,” he says. “And then you just kept talking.”

“Um, I think you find my jokes very hot,” Richie says. “You’ve said so.”

“Have I?” Eddie teases, grabbing Richie’s thighs and parting them so Richie’s hips are at the same height as Eddie’s face.

Richie wheezes his way through a laugh and swirls his hips so his dick flops around a little. “Suuuure, Eds. Got anything nice to say to this dick?”

“You are making it so hard to be attracted to you,” Eddie says, trying to hide a smile.

“Mmm, again, I think you like this,” Richie says, grinning.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Alright, fine,” he says. “You were feeling insecure earlier, so I will admit the extremely obvious fact that I like your entire dorky-ass personality.”

Richie smiles at him like he hung the moon, and Eddie’s heart threatens to burst. “And my dick?” Richie asks, waggling his hips so his dick does the same.

Eddie sighs and gives the tip a soft little kiss, which shuts Richie right up.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh boy.”

Eddie snorts, letting it ghost over Richie’s dick.

Richie’s head falls back against the wall with a soft little noise. “Oh, God, I’m so fucked.”

Eddie smirks at that, kissing the tip again. It smells weird, and Eddie thinks it’ll taste weird too, but he reaches around Richie’s thighs and wraps his hands around so his fingers dig into the stretch marks running up them from Richie’s numerous growth spurts and flattens his tongue against the shaft.

Richie moans.

Eddie presses his fingers into his thighs harder, and his breath catches.

Eddie can’t really look up at his face and slip the tip into his mouth at once, so instead he closes his eyes and takes as much into his mouth as he can without gagging.

It doesn’t taste good.

It tastes sort of tangy, in a weird, gummy way.

But Richie lets out a strangled little noise and scrabbles at the wall, so Eddie runs his tongue along the underside of his cock so he can curl it up into the head. Richie’s hips jolt before he catches himself, proving that Eddie can probably take a lot more into his mouth if he wanted to, but then he won’t be able to get his tongue to the tip where Richie likes it.

He’d always assumed that sucking dick was a lot like fucking, in which the goal was generally to get your whole dick in there and thrust. But now that he was here, he didn’t think it was going to be much good if he simply jerked his mouth up and down Richie’s dick. Instead, he focuses on sealing his lips around the shaft he can get to and swirling his tongue around the head.

He brings one hand up to wrap it around the part of Richie’s dick he can’t get in his mouth comfortably, and carefully bobs his head along with the motion of his tongue.

“Oh!” Richie cries, and after a little more of that his legs are shaking. 

Eddie curls his fingers into his thigh, thumbing at the crease of his groin, and Richie lets out a sharp little moan, hips jolting again like he’s trying not to.

Eddie pulls back, lapping at Richie’s dick so he doesn’t get drool everywhere as he does. “It’s fine. I’ve got some leeway, I won’t puke on your dick.”

Richie manages a breathy laugh, his hand settling on the top of Eddie’s head. “Can I…?” he asks softly.

Eddie nods, and Richie rests his hands on his head, letting Eddie’s hair slide through his fingers but not gripping. Eddie takes him back into his mouth, and Richie gasps, listing forward.

He leans onto Eddie’s head, curling in on himself as Eddie starts rolling his tongue around Richie’s dick, nice and slow. His hips thrust in small, tight little jolts, still so polite as Richie mewls and gasps.

Eddie tries to suck and move his tongue at once, and that’s a lot harder than he’d thought, but Richie doesn’t seem to care, because his hips start moving faster, the whines falling from his lips growing higher and more frequent.

Eddie puts his hand back on his thigh, taking Richie’s dick deeper into his mouth so he doesn’t come right on Eddie’s tongue.

Richie moans like he’s seen the light, legs nearly sliding out from under him as he comes, slumped back against the wall.

Eddie swallows, licking at Richie’s dick until he whines and his limp dick slides out of Eddie’s mouth.

Come tastes gross, Eddie decides. It’s bitter and sticky in the back of his throat. “Blegh,” he says, and Richie giggles. “Are you gonna feel bad if I immediately run to brush my teeth?”

“You mean my jizz doesn’t taste like the nectar of the gods?” Richie teases, breathing hard.

“No, it does not,” Eddie says, licking at the roof of his mouth and shuddering when he gets another wave of aftertaste. “Ugh. Gross.”

“You really swallowed?” Richie whispers, sliding down the wall to sit in front of Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I really did.”

“Holy shit,” Richie breathes, staring at Eddie’s spit slicked lips. “Hot.”

He kisses Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, and Eddie really wants to brush his teeth now.

Richie presses his lips against Eddie’s, smiling into the kiss. “Okay, go brush your teeth.”

Eddie kisses him back, then tries to appear less than frantic about getting to the bathroom. He has to rinse his mouth out with mouthwash three times before the taste is finally gone, and then he returns.

Richie has sprawled out on the bed, breathing softly. Eddie smacks his ass teasingly, and Richie laughs and wiggles his hips. “How was it?”

“Good,” Richie mumbles. “Not as good as getting fucked, but good.”

“Good,” Eddie says, rubbing his back. 

“How’d you like it?” Richie asks.

“It was worth it for feeling your legs shake,” he teases. “Love your legs.”

“Hmm,” Richie murmurs. “Maybe later you can suck some hickies into my thighs. I bet I’d feel them between my legs when I’m running around on stage like some kinda rabid terrier.”

Eddie shivers at that. “That sounds good.”

“Thought you’d like that,” Richie says, stretching lazily.

Eddie grins and slides his hand up Richie’s neck and into his hair. “Now can I brush your hair, ya dumb baby?”

“Hey,” Richie says, “you have to treat me like a lady.”

Eddie snorts and shoves his face into his pillow, flipping his hair over his head and grabbing the brush. “You have nicer hair than any lady.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Richie laughs.

“It means I like you and your beautiful head of hair,” Eddie replies, and starts methodically brushing the tangles out of Richie’s hair. “Now be still before I tug half of it out because it’s a goddamn bird’s nest…”