(Eddie practically explodes with light from the inside out. Eddie had discovered that he had a weakness for guys calling him things like that in general, but Richie calling him any sweet nickname was an instant sucker punch. It leveled out everything and had Eddie pressed up against the side of the tub with absolutely anticipation and adoration on his face. He definitely was off his meds, all right, and that was the luxury of drinking for Eddie.
It made him feel a little more unhinged and wild. Granted, sometimes that could lead to awful mood drops and the like, but tonight he mostly just felt loose and good. He felt like how he used to feel but even better, because back when they were kids he could never be this free to express himself. Even if they weren't together together, they were closer to that than they had ever been before.)
Thanks, daddy.
(He squeaks the voice out with sickening sweetness to make it clear he's absolutely using that particularly dirty nickname in jest more than he was attempting anything serious with it. He's even laughing at himself a second later, flushing down from his nose and across his shoulders. Eddie watches with rapt attention as Richie strips. Graceless or not, it had Eddie whistling lowly.
Then Richie was in the tub and Eddie was the happiest he's been in possibly forever. He sinks on his side, smiling at Richie in a victorious sort of way. How many times had they sat this way in the hammock, on a bed? Too many to count, and Eddie's automatically sliding his feet over Richie's lap under the water and pressing them against his chest.)
Not so sure Bert and Ernie would be having x-ray thoughts about each other. Maybe they do. I don't think about the schematics of puppet porn too much, if we're being honest here.
(Eddie kneads Richie's gut with his feet, a bit like a cat, and Eddie's looking like he can hardly restrain himself.)
I mean you could technically a shove a hand up my backside. It'd probably get my mouth flapping too.
(Even drunk Eddie realizes what he's saying, and he gives a low groan, dropping his head back against the edge of the tub, laughing.)
I hate you. Why am I talking dirty through puppet stuff now? You're such a bad influence. Momma was right.
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It made him feel a little more unhinged and wild. Granted, sometimes that could lead to awful mood drops and the like, but tonight he mostly just felt loose and good. He felt like how he used to feel but even better, because back when they were kids he could never be this free to express himself. Even if they weren't together together, they were closer to that than they had ever been before.)
Thanks, daddy.
(He squeaks the voice out with sickening sweetness to make it clear he's absolutely using that particularly dirty nickname in jest more than he was attempting anything serious with it. He's even laughing at himself a second later, flushing down from his nose and across his shoulders. Eddie watches with rapt attention as Richie strips. Graceless or not, it had Eddie whistling lowly.
Then Richie was in the tub and Eddie was the happiest he's been in possibly forever. He sinks on his side, smiling at Richie in a victorious sort of way. How many times had they sat this way in the hammock, on a bed? Too many to count, and Eddie's automatically sliding his feet over Richie's lap under the water and pressing them against his chest.)
Not so sure Bert and Ernie would be having x-ray thoughts about each other. Maybe they do. I don't think about the schematics of puppet porn too much, if we're being honest here.
(Eddie kneads Richie's gut with his feet, a bit like a cat, and Eddie's looking like he can hardly restrain himself.)
I mean you could technically a shove a hand up my backside. It'd probably get my mouth flapping too.
(Even drunk Eddie realizes what he's saying, and he gives a low groan, dropping his head back against the edge of the tub, laughing.)
I hate you. Why am I talking dirty through puppet stuff now? You're such a bad influence. Momma was right.