Dude, obviously. Most people lead compliments with “I like your....” and brain-scrambling is the whole-you know.

(If only he weren’t drunk he may be able to explain himself better, but he liked to think he was doing just fine.)

I like masculine. Like hairiness and stuff-

(Eddie presses his face against Richie’s shoulder, sighing faintly. He definitely had not noticed any looks. He picks his head back up and glances over his own shoulder as if he might be able to see said freckles. He just winds up arching his back a bit too much and gives up. He finds himself smiling at Richie, said dimples showing up at once.)

I used to think it was skin cancer. All my freckles, I mean. (When he was younger. And occasionally when he was older too. He got more freckles after catching some sun and he had always been paranoid because of it.)

You always distracted me from that. (Eddie turns himself around and slips his feet into the tub, and he finally sinks himself down into the water with a soft exhale. He tips his head back with a low groan, relaxing against the edge.)

Are you going to join me?