sloppybitch | body-heat.

❪ for a brief moment, he thinks he should have just done what he'd normally done. got frustrated, smacked richie's glass off and went to go set up the kitchen. instead, eddie's left sitting here between his look and a look on his face.

he expects the reaction but it still frustrates him anyway and he says dryly: ❫

Just forget it. ❪ and he's moving, trying to unbundle himself from the blanket cocoons. ❫ I'm gonna go started in the kitchen.

[When Ed looks at him like it's a gut punch, and for a minute he lets him get up and go in there alone. Just out of spite, and because he genuinely doesn't know what to say. How do you bridge that. It's an uncomfortable topic to begin with, but so far Rich has been happy with blowjobs and handjobs and dry humping and pretty much everything you can get away with if you're Catholic before marriage.

So, this side of Eddie it's new. It's really new for him, and eventually after some time has gone by he drops the blanket, in a full outfit still, plus a sweater and walks into the kitchen looking a lot like a kid that just got in trouble.]

You wanna talk about this?
You picked a great fucking time to do it, but okay- let's talk.

[He's sincere about it too, he'll hear him out, listen to what he says but in order to do that Eddie actually has to say it.
Temperatures getting colder as it gets later in the day, and he really doesn't wanna spend the wholeoutage pissed at each other.]

❪ by the time rich reaches the kitchen, ed already has the stove on and warming the space up. heavy blankets covers the doorway to the living room, the backdoor and partly over the windows to help keep the heat inside. it's made it darker in the small space but eddie's set out his supply of those little l.e.d. flameless candles to help with that.

he's seated on the floor, no longer shivering but his hands are shaking though he isn't sure if it's the cold or his feelings. probably a combination of both, he thinks. either way, he doesn't look up when richie enters and he snorts at the comment. ❫

Yeah, sure, why not. You going to make a fucking joke of it again though?

❪ and he is... well, a little upset. clearly. either way, he continues fiddling with the air mattress as a means of keeping his hands busy. ❫

Dude.

[Rich is actually trying here, and sure he might deserve this but, it wasn't a decision he ever made out of pure selfishness. For a while, he just stands there, arms folded across his chest waiting for Eddie to say something and the entire time that silence drags on. Yeah, he's in trouble.]

I mean it.

❪ okay, yeah, he feels a little bad. eddie knows, in no way, has richie ever done anything out of selfishness to him. if anyone is being selfish, it's him and he knows that. everything rich has done since leaving that hospital has been for him and—

but, god, is he ever tired. idly, he still continues to fiddle though if just because it helps keep his thoughts all in one place. ❫

I just want things to be fucking normal, Rich. I want us to be able to do things like normal couples do without this shadow hanging over us because I got stabbed by some alien clown in a sewer. ❪ for a moment, he pauses and touches his chest with a heated look. not toward richie but rather his own self. ❫

I just— I don't know, I'm tired. I'm really tired, Richie.

And so you think, what?
Us going all the way is going to fix it.

[Rich means it sincerely and bites back the whole penetration comment because, well, as fantastic as it sounds there's plenty of gay men all around the world that don't need that to really signify anything.

He's still standing, really he wants to be close but actually discussing this might be easier for Eddie if he can be there with his thoughts and additional things to split the focus on.]

We're never gonna be normal.
I'm sorry. Even if we never went down there, think of what we've been through.
What we had to deal with growing up.

I know you're upset, and if that's what you want, we can do it.
It was never off the table.

[Rich just isn't sure it'll fix it if it's brought on by frustration and the cold, or just being in Derry stuck in the middle of more bullshit.

He'd always just been waiting for the right time and then that right time never seemed to come.]

Edited 2019-09-16 05:30 (UTC)

N—no. ❪ he croaks out, voice straining slightly. ❫ It's not just that.

❪ it's like what mike said— they were touched by something down there and even though it was dead there was still something hanging over them. something in the shadows that he couldn't make out and in truth? he was scared it was his own hang-ups instead of the traumatic ptsd that came from dealing with what they had been through.

he makes an awkward sound, breath hitching in his throat and catching as he fumbles for his inhaler. he hasn't needed it as much these days but sometimes... sometimes things get the better of him and he needs the safety of it. popping the top, he takes in a deep breath and sighs.

... god, richie was right. they'll never be normal. so, he shakes his head in the end. ❫

I think I'll just get this finished up. You wanna go and grab the pillows and blankets?

No, please tell me.
We're not kids anymore, man.
You can't talk to me seriously and I won't fault you for it.

[It's about the time that Eddie takes out his inhaler that Rich crosses the room, squats down and places his hand on his back to comfort him.

It's natural, for Eddie to just blindly go along with him and most of the time he wouldn't care but Rich taking care of Eddie wasn't for the power of guilt. It was so that they could get past all this bullshit. He doesn't want to keep going in circles.]

I'll get them, but first can you just talk to me.

❪ he stiffens up slightly at the hand on his back but relaxes after a moment and lets his gaze shift to richie before falling back to his hands. he fiddles with his inhaler now, turning it over and over and considering his thoughts. ❫

Listen, Richie, I— ❪ he swallows, thickly. ❫ I love you, a lot. But that's not exactly something I get, you know? My entire life was nearly being suffocated or lied to or pushed around and told that it was okay because they loved me. They were doing what they did for me, to help me. That sort of stuff can fuck a person up so I'm never sure if I'm doing right by you. If... if I'm good enough for you.

❪ he blinks a few times, not teary but just... distant. ❫ Sometimes I wonder if I'm holding you back from something better than fucking Derry and me.

Edited 2019-09-16 06:09 (UTC)

[This again, Richie hates this more than anything because being with him makes it all worth it. With staying in Derry a little longer, until they can go back to LA. Eddie's history-making him feel hard to love had always been an issue for him.

At his core, Eddie was so much more than a sick boy, or someone that needed to be taken care of. He was intelligent and handy, he was quick on his feet and he paid attention to the shit around them that they didn't always catch. It might've been a source of humor now and again but those things are all assets, and what's more- Eddie was always the most generous of all of them, the most naturally inclined to be empathetic even with all the bullshit his Mom pulled and the things he'd went through as a natural result. He's a goddamn success story and he doesn't know it.

Rich takes a minute, and finally, settles back onto the mattress to give his legs a break. A long exhale escapes him.]

Don't mistake me, but we're out of here as soon as I get the okay.
We can do better than Derry. Both of us.

And as far as love goes. Do you really think I'd be off on some fucking romantic getaway if you weren't in the picture? I mean, really think about it. Think about me before the sewers. Sure we hadn't seen each other for a while, yeah, okay.

[Rich rolls his eyes, and settles his arms on his knees. A successful comedian he might be, but he wasn't successful in any other capacity at all. Rich just did what he did best, hide behind his humor. ]

Don't do that bullshit. Eds. Don't. You are the best of us.
Even if you can't see that. It's why I'm here, to remind you. You're not replaceable. You don't get to be left in a fucking sewer.

And yeah, it's shit. You're fucked up. I'm fucked up.
We're all fucked up.

I'd still rather be freezing my balls off, then be in LA drinking myself to sleep.
So, please.

[With a tired look mixed with more raw emotion than he ever intended to show, Rich pushes his forehead into Ed's gently.]

Don't give up.

Edited (sorry bout them edits) 2019-09-16 07:52 (UTC)

❪ although he feels he should know better it was hard, eddie finds, to overcome the hiccups that linger in his very actions. he supposes, in a way, it makes sense after a literal lifetime of the sort of emotional abuse he was forced to try and navigate through as a kid and on into a adult. all it took was coming back and nearly dying to a alien sewer clown to remember it all...

he sits and idly continues to idly play with his inhaler as richie talks and letting his gaze linger in his lap. he only, finally, looks up when richie calls him eds and sighs tiredly. he knows rich is right, he remembers their little pep talk before crawling down into that damn hell cave.

you're braver than you think.

and he was certainly a better person than he thought too. it's just so surprisingly hard to make those thoughts reality but he wants to try, try and be better. not just for himself but for richie too. richie who had given up so much; sacrificed all these things just to stay and be with him because no— richie wouldn't have lingered like this. visited, sure but he'd be like the other losers and have gone back to his life by now. it gets a small smile out of him as he shakes his head, rubbing his face and sighing before rich presses their foreheads together.

god, he was an idiot. ❫

I'm not going to give up. ❪ he says it in response to richie but it's mostly to himself. carefully, he brings a hand up and lets it come to rest on his neck as he offers him a tired smile. ❫ Thanks, Rich.

[The backslide into insecurity is normal, at least he figures- his mom was a fucking terror, even to the kids that weren't her in. Eddie grew up the very epitome of a Bubble Boy with just enough guilt pushed into it to make him destroy himself in the event of any real inner-turmoil.

Mirroring him, Rich places a hand on his neck and flashes him a grin, it's better when they're like this and never once has he regretted sticking around. Eddie had always been the only reason he stayed after they came back. It all hit him like tidal waves in the Chinese restaurant. From there, it was impossible to leave, even when he wanted.

When pulling back, Rich gives Ed a little slap, straight on the cheek where the faintest traces of a scar still linger. Rigorous moisturizing and Ed's general propensity for taking care of himself where Rich is too dense or doesn't really care has paid off. He disappears into the foyer for the blankets and comes back with everything piled in his arm.]

Andele, Eduardo. Time to beat the freeze.

❪ slowly, eddie's breathing returns to its normal (if naturally shaky now) rhythm as rich lingers near him. it's nice, truth be told and for a brief moment he shuts his eyes—

and then richie fucking slaps him and he lets out an offended squawk. okay, it was a little slap but what in the fresh hell. he can only stare as rich stands after that and meanders away to gather everything although once he vanishes beyond the blanket there is a small smile that graces his lips.

right, okay, back to figuring out this stupid air mattress.

thankfully by the time rich returns, he's got the blasted thing set up and already covered with a nice fitted sheet because it's important, okay?? the room has even warmed up enough for eddie to shed one of his sweaters. ❫

It's like we're having a dumb sleepover except, you know, trying not to freeze instead of staying up late playing Street Fighter.

I played.
You lost.

[It's not far from the truth, but even so Rich settles into the makeshift nest they made in their kitchen and pulls off the hoodie he grabbed to keep himself cool with. He remembered sleepovers, but not too many. Going over to the Kaspbrak house was a burden in and of itself and when Eddie could escape he was a lot better off in Richie's house of parental negligence and ignorance. It really was bliss.

In those moments, he remembers seeing Eddie relax for the first fucking times ever. That's where the bond started, getting Eddie loosened up enough that his smartass comments came easier.

Falling into the damn air-mattress feels great but he's still careful not to throw his weight around. Worried about popping it. The sounds it makes in protest of his body weight just gets a laugh out of him. Wow. Hurtful.]

Yeah, well, of course you would. ❪ he says dryly, rolling his eyes. ❫ You got to play a lot more than me.

❪ it isn't far from the truth at all. his mom never bought him a video game system and what little allowance he did get meant not a lot of time getting to play at the cinema. he spent a lot more time watching old movies, mom approved— of fucking course. still, it was always nice to spend time at richie's house where he could just... well, be a kid.

richie falling on the air mattress jostles him awkwardly but he quickly moves, laying down sideways and resting his head on rich's chest with a chuckle. ❫

I swear if you pop this then you're sleeping in the tub. ❪ is he joking? probably. maybe. ❫

And you're the one that wanted to come have sex in the kitchen.
I don't see the three of us making it out of that alive.
100% sure the the bed wouldn't make it.

[It would be nice, really nice to go that far and every day spent together Rich finds himself opening up to the idea but thinking too much has always been his fucking downfall. It's this situation where he stresses himself out and then shuts down, classic Tozier coping mechanisms.

Rich pulls Eddie closer, one arm around him and the other somewhere over his stomach but beneath the blankets.]

If this doesn't end tomorrow we should consider making s'mores.
S'mores sandwiches. The kind you have to take your shirt off to eat.

That is not what I fucking meant! ❪ there's that offended noise again. honestly, if he had feathers, they'd probably be puffed out now. oh well, richie can enjoy his blush instead. ❫ I swear you're the bane of my entire existence sometimes.

❪ he covers his face briefly with his hands but richie makes it hard when he gets a arm around him and pulls him closer as the other comes to rest atop his stomach. he peeks from between his fingers as rich talks, narrowing his gaze before dropping his hands all together. ❫

What kind of s'mores have you been eating, Richie?

It's okay. It really is.

[Rich comes closer to pull his hands away from his face, lacing their fingers together in defiance of any exclusionary reaction Eddie might have to the next thing he says. He could only play coy for so long.] I know what my raw animal magnetism does to you.

[Ah, the s'mores. Chef Tozier would be to the rescue soon enough. His smores are like the big macs of s'mores the fucking Everest of campfire delicacies.]

The right kind, clearly. You'd hate it, gooey sticky drips everywhere.
But like the best 48 seconds of your life. Totally worth the cholesterol.

❪ there's only a small bit of fight from eddie as richie comes in closer, pulling his hands away from his face and lacing their fingers together like some fucking sap. it's probably a good idea though because his face only stains more red as richie keeps talking and he considers, for half-a-second, of just rolling off the damn air mattress.

instead, he squeezes at richie's fingers and makes a face. ❫

That just sounds gross and messy and— ❪ he shakes his head. ❫ And I guess you'll just have to show me what makes me so great. I'm not taking my shirt off though, I'll just wear one of yours.

Like I said, if this bullshit isn't over with tomorrow I'll see about getting it together.
It'll blow your mind.

[Of course, the first time he had them he was a kid and the second time he was drunk beyond reason so his opinion is only worth so much. It's way too easy to take advantage of Eddie with his fingers now at his mercy, and while when they were kids this would have been prime mercy material now it's something totally different, now mercy is just being at his mercy. A totally different thing and Rich loves nothing more than to see Eddie squirm.]

Since we're past the serious part of the talk.
It's my turn to ask a question.

[When he lowers his voice it's more for effect than anything else.]

Why does one of us putting our dick in the other mean so much to you?
Are you a top? Do you need the release? Just say the word, Eddie, Jesus Christ.

❪ he snorts but there's the fainest trace of a smile. ❫ Yeah, okay, we'll see about that.

❪ it's a thing too that richie enjoys it because eddie is already uncomfortable being so easily at the other's mercy like this. it puts him on edge like an small angry cat ready to hiss and spit out curses. he, in fact, can't help squirming his fingers in the other's grasp and furrows his brow.

he almost leans in a little more to make sure he hears but as soon as it's clear what richie is saying, he's already squirming away with a shake of his head. ❫

It— it doesn't! And I'm not, I mean— I don't think I am. ❪ he wants to die. god, let him die this time. ❫ Why do you have to keep picking on me about this?

[It's moments like these that Rich really wished he had a game face because his expressions go through a kaleidoscope of different emotions when Eddie makes his excuses, mostly mocking more excited and interested than anything else.]

Because you won't do anything about it.

[The ball is in his court, naturally, to see how tightly wound he can get him. A past time of Rich's is bringing out the bull in Eddie and this is no different. Eddie may be sweet, generous, kind but more than that he was smart, brave, and incredibly cunning we had to be. Rich had lost a fight more than once growing up with Eddie in living room wrestling sessions, not that he was about to admit it now.

No squirming, not until he's absolutely sure that Eddie's about to snap. Red as a cherry tomato.]

You want me to stop? Make me.

What the fuck does that mean!?

❪ if he wants eddie tightly wound up then he is doing a fan-fucking-tastic job. the snap comes before he can really help himself, eyes narrowed and making a less than impressed noise as he pushes back. their fingers are still locked together but he can push with his legs, huffing in an irritable tone. ❫

I'm not some weakling anymore, you know. ❪ the loosened hold on his fingers tightens again. ❫ And I just got through telling your ass how much I loved you.

❪ he's red but it's more frustration that embarrassment now. ❫

If this is some play to get me kissing you to shut you up then it's not going to work.

You know exactly what it means, Eddie.
Don't bitch just to bitch. You survived a fucking impossible situation.
If you want something, fucking take it. You deserve it.
You're not weak, don't you think you've proved that?
Dammit.

[Despite the language he's using Rich is more energized and encouraging than anything, saying these things while fighting back against Eddie's attempts to move, but only as a reminder that he's there.

The movement of his legs, does knock a little of the weight from his words too, but that's just a matter of being taken off guard and not having any real method to fight him on that avenue.]

Of course, you won't kiss me.
If you kissed me you'd have to admit that to yourself.
You'd have to follow through with it.

[His tone is still more encouraging than it is angry, or accusatory. If Eddie needs to be liberated from feeling fragile he has years of experience when it comes to pushing the guy over the edge and into taking action.

Rich's grip slackens on his hands slackens when Rich tightens his grip, and he stays focues on him eyes meeting his through the now darker room, only getting darker as the sun moves further behind the clouds.]

❪ okay, that... sort of takes the wind out of his sails.

he deflates almost immediately and stares wide-eyed at richie as he speaks, only glancing off briefly as he gives a shuddered breath and feels a shiver go through his body. he's not sure if it's from the chill or something else but he tightens his grip on the fingers laced with his own.

and, yeah, rich's tone isn't angry or accusatory but he feels like a kid again. ❫

You're the first person to really ever tell me that, you know. ❪ he says lightly; his voice small as if he's been stunned. eventually, he shakes his head. ❫ Told me that I actually deserve something.

❪ he shifts again but this time he draws himself closer to rich on the mattress, lowering their hands slightly and pressing their foreheads together not unlike earlier. for a moment, he simply enjoys the closeness— their noses brushing together before he asks: ❫

Can I still kiss you?

[There was never any question in Rich's mind, of what Eddie may or may not deserved because that was never for him to say. There were moments, growing up, that he thought that he didn't deserve him a natural consequence of being a kid from Derry, more so a closeted queer boy that had no idea how to fucking deal with the weight of it.]

You don't have to ask...

[They'd been through plenty in the past several weeks but never once would Rich ever reject any advances from Eddie. Rich would come back from appointments and crawl almost completely into him on the couch and they'd stay like that for hours, Rich's hands making tiny movements in Ed's hair. They fit together like two perfectly broken parts that fit to fix the mechanism.

Instead of waiting, Rich leans forward and angles his jaw to initiate it. All he ever wanted is for Eddie to be comfortable with him. With all of it. Secure enough to do what he wanted to and know that there was nothing he could ever do to ruin how he felt because at this point it was impossible.

During the kiss, Eddie doesn't even bother trying to get his hands back, gives Eddie the control. He needs it, Rich knows he does, and he wants to allow him that because he knows he needs it even if won't admit it.]

❪ he chuckles lightly, breath warm against richie's cheek. ❫ Right, well... I just won't ask next time then.

❪ although he's had his moments of confidence over the past few weeks there are still moments were it falters and eddie questions himself. he was never so much worried about them or what they had but rather it just circled back to his own hangups. still there is comfort to be found in the small things like after his appointments when they would curl up together and forget everything else except for each other.

he likes times like this now too. yeah, today has been it own set of issues but he wants to try and do better. prove to richie that there wasn't anyone he was more comfortable with than him. prove to him how much his presence has done for his recovery. it's why he doesn't linger long before returning the kiss, pressing in close and nudging it a touch deeper.

there's a pleased sound that comes up in the back of his throat as he frees one of his hands and lets it come to trace the line of his jaw before dipping to his throat. ❫

[It's been more than a month, the two of them steadily pushing the boundary of what they had between them. Rich took him the bridge once, and they just hung out there over the R + E that was carved over what felt like such a long time ago. Most of the time he stayed home, and Rich has only had to fly back out to LA once in the time they've been sharing together for a meeting that required a more strict face to face setting than skype.

In the end, Eddie had survived and so had he, the separation didn't ease into micro-managing the way it would have before. They were becoming a different sort of thing every day but growing together instead of apart so there was naturally going to be tapering off period.

Meeting his advances is second nature at this point for Rich, something he'd dreamed about for so long finally became a reality and so even when it's not in heat of emotion sometimes he'll grab Ed and kiss him just because he can to feel that closeness and ground himself in it.

A small puff of air escapes him hitched in excitement when Eddie's hand moves from his jaw to his neck, eager to see where this might go.]

❪ their brief time apart had probably been the hardest. he supposes it comes in the aftermath of what they've been through together that separation and loneliness began to flare into anxiety. eddie had held on to him a lot after he got back, he remembers, near tackling richie as he was coming through the door.

it might be easier now, he considers. maybe. he tries not to think about things like that often even if he's been able to do more and more for himself without the worry of his heart exploding. as it is, he's fine just where richie is: at his side.

the sound of his hitched breath of excitement makes ed shudder. he lets his hand linger along his neck before he breaks their kiss with a grin, placing another kiss on richie's chin and then dipping his lips down to his neck as well.

he leaves a trail of kisses along his throat, nipping lightly as he moves down before pausing over a pulse point and leaving a small determined purple bruise there. ❫

[Butterflies boil up in his stomach, they grew up and they grew apart but it all still feels the same. Eddie has always been able to reach out and set him straight, even through bouts of anger and anxiety. They were older, by far, but still, the same kids hurriedly running into the photobooth and fighting for dominance in the hammock.

Except now, Rich is more than aware that there's no reason to fight. With kiss swollen lips and drumming in his head he gives into the slight shift of power with ease, twisting his fingers into the waistband of Eddie's jeans to bring their bodies closer.]

❪ he leans back just enough to admire his work before eddie feels rich's hand at his waistband, twisting his fingers up and somehow managing to drag their bodies even closer. he presses in as close as physically possible, hip to hip and inviting a new flash of pleasure to shudder through his body. ❫

Rich... ❪ he says with a heavy, needy breath of air. he does the only thing that makes sense and leans up to capture his lips in another kiss again.

it's hot and heavy, the sort of thing he usually holds back on but now he can't deny himself. the breathless sort of kissing as his hand trails down, dipping underneath richie's shirt and letting his palm press against his stomach. ❫

[The way his name rolls off of Eddie's tongue, is butter-smooth and hot like the soft pass of breath rolling out over his face in between kissing. This time, Rich is methodical in his response, exploring new terrain with the tip of his tongue, searching him in kind as a response.

When his palm finds his stomach, he leans into the touch communicating that desire without saying anything. Rich moves his hands up and underneath Eddie's shirt after a moment, to follow the same path, encourage the same exploration a reminder that he's letting Eddie lead this and he's confident in whatever he decides to do.]

❪ he sighs against the kiss as richie response to his own exploration is in kind and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue trace the seam of his lips with another soft sound.

eddie still finds himself shaky though he isn't sure if it's his nerves or the cold. probably a mixture of both, honestly. thankfully, he's drawn out of any lingering worried thoughts as richie's hand work themselves underneath his shirt and against skin. he draws back slightly, drawing in a soft gasp of air but doesn't let it break them apart long before he leans back in to keep kissing him as his hands continue to explore.

they draw up his chest and linger in the center where, on his own body, his scar is but there's nothing like that to find on richie. thankfully.

he draws one hand away from richie with a thought, awkwardly grasping for one of his hands and drawing it down to the waistband of his slacks. eddie can't help the shaky breath he gives as he pulls away just enough to look at him, swallowing hard because even though he was trying to do better to communicate what he wanted. he still didn't want to push richie into doing anything or toward anything certain without nothing it was alright with him too. ❫

[They hadn't made time for this in a while. With Richie's work being more adamant about him doing gigs closeby, the travel and the media input to places like youtube and twitter have kept him distracted and what little energy he's had has been given to Eddie but only so far as to listen to him speak and relax into his arms every night.

This was a long time coming so as soon as he receives the indication, Rich follows the gentle suggestion with a coy smile playing at his lips. As he reaches past the waistband to explore, his fingertips gently graze past the soft skin of his abdomen. One that he draws out into a teasing motion to motivate him.

His hand finds Eddie easily, the visible reaction to what's going on between them evident even if he's not looking directly at it. Rich can't help but wet his lips when he gives him a good solid stroke, something about this time feeling so much more serious than those before. He's hungry and overwhelmed with want, but willing to follow directions, eager to see what he might want next.]

❪ it has felt like something has been missing since richie had started slowly returning to his own life and work. he does what he can to help, of course but a lot of it is out of his league and most of his help is in the form of support. whether that meant telling him some twitter joke was dumb as shit or hugging him close every night as he fell asleep.

that's why eddie finds himself shuddering as he feels the coy smile against his lips and pressing their foreheads together, breath hot and near whining as fingers tease the skin just abdomen. they literally can't be any closer than they were already but he still tries to press in— chest to chest, hips to hips and foreheads pressed together.

he holds onto rich's elbow as he strokes him, groaning low and unable to help the way his hips move to try and follow his hand. he almost covers the noise up but, yeah, he's not denying himself anything this time. ❫

[The healthier Eddie got the more independence Rich tried to give him, it started shaky at first but his initial plan had been to branch that same trust into everything else between them. Never a moment like now, with Rich wonton right beside him and the small area of the air matress making it near impossible to pull apart, even if he wanted to. Which, he definitely didn't.

Rich's hand moves with the subtle rhythm of Eddie's hips, meeting each tiny jerk of them in kind. He steals a kiss between the gentle sounds Eddie's been making and buries his face in his shoulder, biting into his deltoid firmly to help the feeling along.]

❪ he can't help the shift of his body as he pushes forward with his hips a little more, a little harder. although he does his best to return the kiss, it's surprisingly hard given the little sounds and gasps currently escaping him as richie continues driving him nearly insane with his hand alone.

the bite does him no favors and he shudders, groaning and surprised just how much he likes it. ❫

Rich, ah, Richie— please.

❪ he isn't sure what he's asking for aside for him not to stop. shakily he draws a hand away from under rich's shirt and lets his fingers dip below the waistband of his pants. he's completely intent on making sure that richie feels just as good as he does right now. ❫

[Every time they're together it's like an electric current, rocketing through his spin sending fragments toward each finger tip. Being with Ed is like it always was, exciting, energizing, like their first kiss when they were kids. Now, there's belonging there, comfort, Rich can be completely and totally himself.

When he starts coming undone, Rich slows his movements in an attempt to make it last. Long generous pulls with gentle kissing, breath hitching in his throat when Ed crosses the threshold of his slacks.

With the weather being what it was, his goal was to make this last as long as possible. They hadn't been truly intimate with each other in so long, and desire was making everything else around them fade away.]

❪ sometimes it was hard to put into words just what he felt with richie. electric, though, is good because it certainly feels like there are sparks in his vision as his hand continues to gently stroke him closer to coming undone. it's really maddening how easy it was for richie to get him like this, near begging and turning to putty in his hand as his hips try to move in time with each stroke.

eddie almost forgets his own ventures before his mind catches up and he lets his hand continue to draw itself down into rich's slacks, brushing against him and breathing in a shuddering breath of air. it's easier to think now that he's working him over at a slower pace but it's hard not to try moving his hips and urging him on again.

with a hard swallow, eddie pulls at his slacks until he's exposed and moves to do the same for himself. although he hates drawing rich's hand away, lacing their hands together again, the pressure of moving their hips together and the friction of them sliding against one another is a completely different sort of pleasure that gets another near whine of pleasure from him. ❫

[The clock is ticking in the kitchen and the air mattress is squeaking beneath them and Rich can't hear any of it, too lost in the moment and the sounds that Eddie is making. The rest of the world falls away and loses focus like it always does when he gets to spend time with him.

The heat from the oven and the friction between them has beads of sweat already forming on his neck, and under the t-shirt, he still has on. The pants are too much, the blankets too dense and while chasing Eddie's hip to meet each movement Rich is also absently pushing the hem of his slacks past his ankles and off completely.

With heavy breaths, finds refuge in Ed's lips, chasing away the sparks in his own vision with each deliberate kiss.]

❪ he's missed this. missed this closeness with richie that they haven't had the chance or time for as he's gotten stronger and rich has started working more. it's the little things, truly. so he doesn't linger long before following suit and working his own slacks down, kicking them off somewhere on the floor with a longing sigh.

although he need out of this sweater too but he can't bring himself to break apart from rich when everything was just so good. it's everything he needed, wanted and the best part is he doesn't have to hide any of his pleasure at all. ❫

Fu—fuck, you'll drive me crazy. ❪ he says into a kiss, grinning slightly and rocking his hips harder. ❫

[It's so amazing to see Eddie fall apart like this, everything Rich had ever wanted to do and everything he fantasized about as a kid was coming to fruition in Ed's breathless gasping and groaning pleas.

Rich has to coerce himself to slow down so he can edge away from the oncoming orgasm. Anything to keep this going a little longer but Eddie's making it hard to follow through with the undignified things falling off his lips. It takes everything in him to keep it all going, and kiss each word away with renewed vigor.]

Eds-- Jesus Fuck. You feel so good.

All because of you. ❪ eddie says between kissing him; voice trembling slightly. ❫ You— you don't have a clue how fucking good you make me feel.

❪ though it wasn't utterly impossible to see. he's a mess of surging emotions and trying that much harder to fight his own impending orgasm. eddie wants so bad to stay with richie in this moment for as long as possible, to forget their surroundings and everyone outside of the two of them. he knows it's something he can only manage for so long because even kissing was getting harder to keep up with. ❫

Richie— shit. ❪ there's a stutter in his voice and the movement of his hips before he comes, hard and is left near panting in the aftermath. ❫

[That last part is enough to get him going too, and even though his own orgasm doesn't rock through him quite as hard as Eddie's does, he has no problem with holding him close while he rides out the shockwaves and the aftermath like a champ.

There's another set of sheets they have to wash, and thankfully the makeshift bed didn't burst under their attentions but it's enough to have sufficiently warmed him up, sweat melting some of his hair down across his brow.]

I love you.

[The words are chased by a kiss to his temple, and a small bite to his ear. They would more than survive the deep-freeze and the outage. Not that he cared either way right now, lazily draped around Eddie and more than content to just lie there with him in the aftermath.]

❪ he keeps himself pressed close against richie as he rides out the last of climax. eddie is left near-panting in the aftermath, shuddering slightly but now overly warm. he has to squirm for a moment to get out of his sweater and leave him in a shirt that is very much one of rich's own before using his sweater to help clean up a little bit.

more shit for the was— he thinks, tossing it somewhere near the entrance to the laundry room. it's the words that get his attention and he stares quietly, near melting into the kiss and bite before speaking up: ❫

I love too, you dork. I've always loved you.

❪ there's a faint laugh on his voice as he leans in to press a kiss against his nose and then brushing another over his cheek. ❫

body-heat.

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lol he's terrible im terrible we are all terrible

rip eds

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higher love by whitney houston came on shuffle and i don't even know anymore

LMAO how grossly on point

i feel bad now what do i do

clearly you must repent

will it ever be enough?

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