i'm absolutely teasing you right now what you need is a hot bath and some advil - not my hands, but i'm willing to make the sacrifice. my hands are up to the task.
[It's a silly admission through the filter of alcohol but something about the last message Eddie sent is worth saving in Richie's book so he does. It's something he's wanted to hear, he waited thirty years, and even though he won't ask about it he feels warm knowing that the verbal slip had to be true. At least in some way, otherwise it would have never been written.
Richie grabs a few pieces of clothes and puts them in a small duffle bag he had over one shoulder and the rest he leaves for another time. Eddie's skincare and overall hygiene routine put his to shame so bringing his own stuff over would be insulting.
True to his word, he's there in fifteen looking enthusiastic as ever to see Eddie, even while he's being a drunken brat.]
(It really had been an honest slip. And while it wasn't entirely explicit in its meaning, it didn't really have to be. Eddie was definitely more of an honest drunk. His walls came down quicker.
Eddie was curled on his couch waiting for Richie, and when Richie shows up he wakes up from the inside out. There was proof of his drinking on the coffee table in a half empty scotch bottle. No glass. There was some low, jazzy kind of music playing. He was in one of his own plain t-shirts, but a pair of Richie's sweats, which he had to roll the waist band over a few times so that the legs wouldn't drag so much.
His face is flushed from drinking, eyes a little wet, but he didn't smell too strongly like a bar, and while he was drunk, he obviously wasn't wasted. He almost gracefully stumbles towards Richie, immediately throwing his arms around him and squeezing tight.)
Thanks for comin'.
(When he was drunk his backwoods Maine accent slipped up a lot more. He'd always had more of an accent because of basic economics in Derry. A drawling drip around his vowels and lazy-sounding uhs. New York had tightened his speech up, but when he was drunk he didn't care quite as much to keep up with the facade.)
God this is already worth it. You're so soft. (Eddie was definitely hanging off of Richie a bit.)
[For the sake of starting this off on the right foot Richie's not gonna mention the scotch bottle or the liquor to weight ratio that's obviously been offset here. Whatever had Eddie drinking like this would have to be discussed, sure, but that was a subject for sobriety.
Richie gladly accepts the hug, supporting Eddie by placing his hands at the small of his back just where he liked for them to be.]
Hey, Eds. Aren't my sweats a little big for you? [It's a light tease, but the way the waist was rolled was undeniably funny and also pretty cute.]
(Eddie doesn't even try to beat around the bush with that one. The reason he had been drinking wasn't a great one, but it wasn't as awful as it could be either. Maybe.)
And you shouldn't be calling me that. (It's been a hot second since Eddie's said as much, mostly because he's been too preoccupied with just being grateful to still be hearing it at all.) You know...I hate it.
(He taps Richie's nose with the tip of his finger. Clearly dude doesn't hate it that much. He goes from booping Richie outright to holding his face and giving him a small kiss on the mouth.)
[Richie bought his sweats big anyway, he liked to pull the drawstring on his own terms and not terms allotted to him by manufacturers or overseas sweatshops.
Eddie's comment about being called Eds makes his mouth pop open. He thought he was in the clear and could use it as much as he wanted to. Looks like old habits came back full swing when Eddie was tickled and pickled and so he holds his hands up in mock surrender.]
Sorry Spaghetti-head. [Two could play the name game. Richie doesn't feel like much of a tree here, but compared to Eddie he definitely was. He returns the kiss after a moment of appreciation for Eddie's flush cheeks and eager grin.] Nope. That's genetics. My grandfather was an oak and his father was a redwood.
(Eddie gives one of those fake-surrender hands a high-five because he was apparently also a total dork when drunk.)
Spaghetti-head's worse. (But it's clear Eddie doesn't really mind either, because his dimple is starting to pop even though he was doing his best to not smile.
The joke has Eddie bursting out with a laugh. It wasn't even a good joke, except it kind of was.)
What kind of wood does that make you then? (There's a boner joke here somewhere.) I feel like this makes me a shrubbery.
[The high five surprises him so much he busts into a low chortle, Eddie in all of his moods was amazing. Drunk Eddie might be a new favorite, but he had to see what the drink limit on that was. Was this seven drink Eddie or was seven drink Eddie a different creature?]
Those are your choices though. Eds, Spaghetti, or Spaghetti-head.
[The lead-in on the boner joke was a gift and Richie's glad Eddie picked up on it the way he did, that made things a whole lot easier.]
I'm chest-nut. [Deadpan.] You're not a shrubbery, c'mon.
(It doesn't occur to Eddie that Richie had never actually really seen him drunk-drunk. There had been the Orient but Eddie hadn't really been drunk then. He had a high tolerance.)
Get better choices.
(Eddie's laughing again because all he hears is the word 'nut' and he's apparently still a teenage boy. He wobbles, thinking on the term.)
I'm a dead rose bush. I think. Isn't that shrubbery? No?
[Richie toys with the idea of lover boy in his head because he knows Eddie will get it but he doesn't go there yet. His palm falls to Eddie's lower waist, and he realizes with some appreciation that they'd been standing awfully close this entire time.]
Do I look like a student of botany? I can't narrow you don't to one flower even if I tried.
(He'll relent. Lover boy would have gotten quite the reaction out of him though. Eddie seems to realize at the exact same time Richie does that they're standing close, and he winds up smiling up at Richie in this shy, slow kind of way. Not much different than a dozen other times he had when they were kids on the fringe of whatever was between them.)
No, I suppose you don't.
(Eddie somehow manages to make this sound rather dreamy. It's probably just the booze. He remembers the original reason Richie had come over.)
[The grin on his face makes it clear how happy he is that he got his way and Richie tangles one of his hands in Eddie's out of habit. Spending time with him was something he would soak up at every opportunity, this place had given him that opportunity and he wasn't going to waste it.]
Let me draw it for you, and make sure it's right.
[With the right temp and some aromatherapy he's betting he might be able to soothe Eddie into his very own pile of goo.]
(Eddie was in a good mood. Relaxed and glad Richie had come over when he had asked. He had just wanted to be with him. He follows him into the bathroom, holding Richie's hand the entire way there.
Before letting go Eddie kisses Richie's knuckles one by one and finally releases his hand with some reluctance. He sits himself down on the closed toilet while Richie got things ready. He watches him silently, his hands tucked between his knees. He was wobbling a little, but not too awful. Not entirely blasted.)
[The kiss to his knuckles makes him linger, his lips moving one by one over each digit. It's intimate, sweet, and with Eddie in the bathroom with him, he starts making sure the water is the right temp and used some of Eddie's new bath salts and oils.
He's not even aware he's being watched, he's too busy playing chemist to make the perfect bath. His glasses fog up as soon as the steam from the water rises and he's in the middle of wiping them on his shirt when Eddie speaks up.]
(Eddie measures them out with his hands before giving a shrug. Eddie slides his shirt off shortly after, dropping it onto the bathroom floor.)
It makes my head scramble. (Eddie stands up and moves over to Richie. He rests a hand against one of said shoulders for balance while he shimmies out of Richie's sweats he had on. It didn't take much to get them to drop off his hips and onto the floor. He wasn't wearing anything beneath. He steps out and bends down to kiss Richie on top of the head.)
I always liked that you were bigger than me. You just like transformed into a different kind of bigger. It's just like- I don't know. Super masculine? (That was Eddie's somewhat elegant way of putting an emphasis on how gay he actually was. He didn't just like men, but he liked the masculinity of men. He sits himself naked on the edge of the tub next to Richie, sliding his hand from his shoulder down to his bicep, smiling slightly.)
Besides. It's normal to like certain features on the person you're sleeping with, I think. Right?
[It definitely didn't sound like one if it was, but he's still feeling pretty good about being invited over. It's easy to drown out the thumping of his heart with the steady stream of water pouring out of the faucet.
Eddie sitting beside him completely naked like it's the most normal thing in the world still does something to him. He peers over his shoulder while he works, giving Eddie's form against the tub a good long look. He's as subtle as possible while doing it, and hopes that Eddie's too drunk to peg it for what it is.]
I mean, so did you. Best of both worlds. You still have those freckles on your shoulders and back. [The ones on his face were always more prominent during the summer and had faded with some time but he still knew how to make them more visible. When Eddie was frustrated, embarrassed, or mad his cheeks would twinge pink and then they'd be as clear as day - the cutest constellation on his face.]
That's right. I've always had a thing for the dimples.
[Richie isn't even going to specify which ones, even though he's clearly talking about facial features. Richie knew he paid an inordinate amount of attention to Eddie's face. He could reconstruct him from memory now, something he was grateful for having been without it for so long.]
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.)
Brain scrambling? Do my shoulders get you weak in the knees, Eds?
[The way that sweet heart-shaped face did for him and the pert round of his ass haunted his dreams. Two could play coy, but Eddie was just a whole lot better about it. Richie didn't necessarily hate masculinity but he loved Eddie, his lean frame, the width of his hips, and the dip his chest took into his torso. Made perfectly, for him.
When Eddie sinks into the tub, he pushes his palm into the water to make sure he did a good job. The aroma has completely enveloped the room. All that existed there was Eddie, himself, and the steam between them.]
I always loved them. Not all freckles are melanoma, dude. Especially the ones you've had since we were what? Six? Seven?
[Richie can't even remember, but he's much more distracted with Eddie and the gentle sound of comfort that melts out of him the moment he relaxes.]
I dunno. You sure you want me and my shoulders in here with you? Might get water all over the floor...
(They suited each other's taste well. Eddie didn't need Richie to understand why he fell all over himself for Richie's body or certain attributes about it. The thing was Eddie would get weak in the knees for Richie even if he had an identical body to Eddie's because Eddie was just weak for Richie. But that would get agonizingly close to fessing up to feelings, and even with booze in his system Eddie wasn't that stupid.
Eddie sinks into the water so that only his eyes were peering out. There's something bright and mischievous in them, something delighted before he dips himself under entirely. He rises up a second later, slicking his hair back and rubbing the water from his face. He flicks some of the excess water right at Richie's face. Only a few harmless drops.)
Yeah, I know that now. (...Mostly. He glances down at himself. His right shoulder always had a few more freckles than his left, and he reaches up to touch them absently. It was some kind of amazing how well they knew each other right down to the pattern of freckles. It makes him smile, and for a second, he really did feel loved. More than that he felt seen. Richie had always made him feel seen.
He leans forward in the water, shifting around in the tub so that he could wrap his arms around Richie's waist, getting him wet in the process.)
I'll chance the mess. Don't make me pull you in. We both know I'll play dirty if I have to.
[Richie was convinced at a young age that the way he felt about Eddie was some wrong and twisted thing, an abomination. It wasn't until seeing real horror that he realized how wrong he had been. They hadn't had very long to relish in that, in the way that they felt. When Eddie left he had been so fractured that he thought he might never recover, and then when the stain IT left took hold he failed to remember what was beautiful about how he felt until it was all too late.
This strained thing between them here felt like the honeymoon phase they never got to have. Richie was at peace with Eddie, even drunk and stupid. It felt right, and he'd been denied so much already he couldn't help but melt into anything he wanted.
The wet hug gets a gripe, but only because he has to bring his hands to his head to keep his glasses on and they still get spattered with the water and the steam from the room.]
Okay, okay!
[Richie's not delicate about the way that he strips down, he tears off his shirt and takes off his bottoms and underwear in one fell swoop. House rules about shoes made it easy to accommodate the tub with no socks and even though the tub creaks in protest as he eases in, he's overcome with comfort as he slides down into the water across from Eddie.]
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what you need is a hot bath and some advil - not my hands, but i'm willing to make the sacrifice. my hands are up to the task.
so, you're home?
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i wouldnt bdease you if oyr were drunk
no
thats a lit
lie
i would.
a hot bath does sound nice. will i be alone in this theorteically bth?
of couurse. do you rally want me to come to you? i can. unlss youd rather not hango ut.
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you'd be merciless and we both know that
you want me to hop in the tub with your drunk ass?
i won't say no but further research is required dude
on a scale of sloppy to bad Meditteranean food how drunk are you right now?
i'm coming over either way i just need to know if i should bring a change of clothes first
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i mean
you like it.
i mean you can hop in or sit on edge i just want your company
not that drunk. i stopped drinking like...an hor ago?
obviously bring change or sjut wear somethin of mine whhocares or we can just
sleep naked
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okay i can be over in fifteen minutes. think you can wait for me?
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action;
Richie grabs a few pieces of clothes and puts them in a small duffle bag he had over one shoulder and the rest he leaves for another time. Eddie's skincare and overall hygiene routine put his to shame so bringing his own stuff over would be insulting.
True to his word, he's there in fifteen looking enthusiastic as ever to see Eddie, even while he's being a drunken brat.]
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Eddie was curled on his couch waiting for Richie, and when Richie shows up he wakes up from the inside out. There was proof of his drinking on the coffee table in a half empty scotch bottle. No glass. There was some low, jazzy kind of music playing. He was in one of his own plain t-shirts, but a pair of Richie's sweats, which he had to roll the waist band over a few times so that the legs wouldn't drag so much.
His face is flushed from drinking, eyes a little wet, but he didn't smell too strongly like a bar, and while he was drunk, he obviously wasn't wasted. He almost gracefully stumbles towards Richie, immediately throwing his arms around him and squeezing tight.)
Thanks for comin'.
(When he was drunk his backwoods Maine accent slipped up a lot more. He'd always had more of an accent because of basic economics in Derry. A drawling drip around his vowels and lazy-sounding uhs. New York had tightened his speech up, but when he was drunk he didn't care quite as much to keep up with the facade.)
God this is already worth it. You're so soft. (Eddie was definitely hanging off of Richie a bit.)
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Richie gladly accepts the hug, supporting Eddie by placing his hands at the small of his back just where he liked for them to be.]
Hey, Eds. Aren't my sweats a little big for you? [It's a light tease, but the way the waist was rolled was undeniably funny and also pretty cute.]
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(Eddie doesn't even try to beat around the bush with that one. The reason he had been drinking wasn't a great one, but it wasn't as awful as it could be either. Maybe.)
And you shouldn't be calling me that. (It's been a hot second since Eddie's said as much, mostly because he's been too preoccupied with just being grateful to still be hearing it at all.) You know...I hate it.
(He taps Richie's nose with the tip of his finger. Clearly dude doesn't hate it that much. He goes from booping Richie outright to holding his face and giving him a small kiss on the mouth.)
It's not my fault you're a fucking tree.
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[Richie bought his sweats big anyway, he liked to pull the drawstring on his own terms and not terms allotted to him by manufacturers or overseas sweatshops.
Eddie's comment about being called Eds makes his mouth pop open. He thought he was in the clear and could use it as much as he wanted to. Looks like old habits came back full swing when Eddie was tickled and pickled and so he holds his hands up in mock surrender.]
Sorry Spaghetti-head. [Two could play the name game. Richie doesn't feel like much of a tree here, but compared to Eddie he definitely was. He returns the kiss after a moment of appreciation for Eddie's flush cheeks and eager grin.] Nope. That's genetics. My grandfather was an oak and his father was a redwood.
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Spaghetti-head's worse. (But it's clear Eddie doesn't really mind either, because his dimple is starting to pop even though he was doing his best to not smile.
The joke has Eddie bursting out with a laugh. It wasn't even a good joke, except it kind of was.)
What kind of wood does that make you then? (There's a boner joke here somewhere.) I feel like this makes me a shrubbery.
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Those are your choices though. Eds, Spaghetti, or Spaghetti-head.
[The lead-in on the boner joke was a gift and Richie's glad Eddie picked up on it the way he did, that made things a whole lot easier.]
I'm chest-nut. [Deadpan.] You're not a shrubbery, c'mon.
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Get better choices.
(Eddie's laughing again because all he hears is the word 'nut' and he's apparently still a teenage boy. He wobbles, thinking on the term.)
I'm a dead rose bush. I think. Isn't that shrubbery? No?
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[Richie toys with the idea of lover boy in his head because he knows Eddie will get it but he doesn't go there yet. His palm falls to Eddie's lower waist, and he realizes with some appreciation that they'd been standing awfully close this entire time.]
Do I look like a student of botany? I can't narrow you don't to one flower even if I tried.
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(He'll relent. Lover boy would have gotten quite the reaction out of him though. Eddie seems to realize at the exact same time Richie does that they're standing close, and he winds up smiling up at Richie in this shy, slow kind of way. Not much different than a dozen other times he had when they were kids on the fringe of whatever was between them.)
No, I suppose you don't.
(Eddie somehow manages to make this sound rather dreamy. It's probably just the booze. He remembers the original reason Richie had come over.)
So, bath? Naked? Me?
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Let me draw it for you, and make sure it's right.
[With the right temp and some aromatherapy he's betting he might be able to soothe Eddie into his very own pile of goo.]
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(Eddie was in a good mood. Relaxed and glad Richie had come over when he had asked. He had just wanted to be with him. He follows him into the bathroom, holding Richie's hand the entire way there.
Before letting go Eddie kisses Richie's knuckles one by one and finally releases his hand with some reluctance. He sits himself down on the closed toilet while Richie got things ready. He watches him silently, his hands tucked between his knees. He was wobbling a little, but not too awful. Not entirely blasted.)
I think I could look at your shoulders all day.
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He's not even aware he's being watched, he's too busy playing chemist to make the perfect bath. His glasses fog up as soon as the steam from the water rises and he's in the middle of wiping them on his shirt when Eddie speaks up.]
My what? My shoulders? Why?
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(Eddie measures them out with his hands before giving a shrug. Eddie slides his shirt off shortly after, dropping it onto the bathroom floor.)
It makes my head scramble. (Eddie stands up and moves over to Richie. He rests a hand against one of said shoulders for balance while he shimmies out of Richie's sweats he had on. It didn't take much to get them to drop off his hips and onto the floor. He wasn't wearing anything beneath. He steps out and bends down to kiss Richie on top of the head.)
I always liked that you were bigger than me. You just like transformed into a different kind of bigger. It's just like- I don't know. Super masculine? (That was Eddie's somewhat elegant way of putting an emphasis on how gay he actually was. He didn't just like men, but he liked the masculinity of men. He sits himself naked on the edge of the tub next to Richie, sliding his hand from his shoulder down to his bicep, smiling slightly.)
Besides. It's normal to like certain features on the person you're sleeping with, I think. Right?
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[It definitely didn't sound like one if it was, but he's still feeling pretty good about being invited over. It's easy to drown out the thumping of his heart with the steady stream of water pouring out of the faucet.
Eddie sitting beside him completely naked like it's the most normal thing in the world still does something to him. He peers over his shoulder while he works, giving Eddie's form against the tub a good long look. He's as subtle as possible while doing it, and hopes that Eddie's too drunk to peg it for what it is.]
I mean, so did you. Best of both worlds. You still have those freckles on your shoulders and back. [The ones on his face were always more prominent during the summer and had faded with some time but he still knew how to make them more visible. When Eddie was frustrated, embarrassed, or mad his cheeks would twinge pink and then they'd be as clear as day - the cutest constellation on his face.]
That's right. I've always had a thing for the dimples.
[Richie isn't even going to specify which ones, even though he's clearly talking about facial features. Richie knew he paid an inordinate amount of attention to Eddie's face. He could reconstruct him from memory now, something he was grateful for having been without it for so long.]
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(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?
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[The way that sweet heart-shaped face did for him and the pert round of his ass haunted his dreams. Two could play coy, but Eddie was just a whole lot better about it. Richie didn't necessarily hate masculinity but he loved Eddie, his lean frame, the width of his hips, and the dip his chest took into his torso. Made perfectly, for him.
When Eddie sinks into the tub, he pushes his palm into the water to make sure he did a good job. The aroma has completely enveloped the room. All that existed there was Eddie, himself, and the steam between them.]
I always loved them. Not all freckles are melanoma, dude. Especially the ones you've had since we were what? Six? Seven?
[Richie can't even remember, but he's much more distracted with Eddie and the gentle sound of comfort that melts out of him the moment he relaxes.]
I dunno. You sure you want me and my shoulders in here with you? Might get water all over the floor...
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(They suited each other's taste well. Eddie didn't need Richie to understand why he fell all over himself for Richie's body or certain attributes about it. The thing was Eddie would get weak in the knees for Richie even if he had an identical body to Eddie's because Eddie was just weak for Richie. But that would get agonizingly close to fessing up to feelings, and even with booze in his system Eddie wasn't that stupid.
Eddie sinks into the water so that only his eyes were peering out. There's something bright and mischievous in them, something delighted before he dips himself under entirely. He rises up a second later, slicking his hair back and rubbing the water from his face. He flicks some of the excess water right at Richie's face. Only a few harmless drops.)
Yeah, I know that now. (...Mostly. He glances down at himself. His right shoulder always had a few more freckles than his left, and he reaches up to touch them absently. It was some kind of amazing how well they knew each other right down to the pattern of freckles. It makes him smile, and for a second, he really did feel loved. More than that he felt seen. Richie had always made him feel seen.
He leans forward in the water, shifting around in the tub so that he could wrap his arms around Richie's waist, getting him wet in the process.)
I'll chance the mess. Don't make me pull you in. We both know I'll play dirty if I have to.
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[Richie was convinced at a young age that the way he felt about Eddie was some wrong and twisted thing, an abomination. It wasn't until seeing real horror that he realized how wrong he had been. They hadn't had very long to relish in that, in the way that they felt. When Eddie left he had been so fractured that he thought he might never recover, and then when the stain IT left took hold he failed to remember what was beautiful about how he felt until it was all too late.
This strained thing between them here felt like the honeymoon phase they never got to have. Richie was at peace with Eddie, even drunk and stupid. It felt right, and he'd been denied so much already he couldn't help but melt into anything he wanted.
The wet hug gets a gripe, but only because he has to bring his hands to his head to keep his glasses on and they still get spattered with the water and the steam from the room.]
Okay, okay!
[Richie's not delicate about the way that he strips down, he tears off his shirt and takes off his bottoms and underwear in one fell swoop. House rules about shoes made it easy to accommodate the tub with no socks and even though the tub creaks in protest as he eases in, he's overcome with comfort as he slides down into the water across from Eddie.]
So, who's Bert and who's Ernie?
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