[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.]
(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.
[It's a stupid question, but he absolutely did and that was made even more evident by how Eddie blushes and dips back into the warm water. His feet have always occupied his personal space, too close for comfort. That was them, though, and it was as warm and as comforting as an old memory. Richie lets that wash over him and responds in kind by placing a palm at the base of Eddie's ankle while they relax.
He can hear Eddie talking, rambling, but with his glasses already obscured from the heat he's pushed them back on his hairline and he's just enjoying the closeness, listening absently while the warmth from the tub seeps in bone-deep.
It's not until Eddie groans that Richie checks back in, his thumb tracing small circles in a small patch of Eddie's leg hair.]
The only thing your momma was right about was that I'm dirty and I'm trouble. Everything else was crap and we both know it.
[Richie raises his brows and moves his neck to the base of the tub to support him as he slips further under the water.]
(Eddie's starting to have a fit of laughter. It was completely worth Richie's reaction. Eddie's laughter trickles away. He props his arms against the edge of the tub, sighing at the feeling of Richie's thumb. He laughs again though, but it's a softer sound.)
You're not dirty.
(It's a thoughtful statement he makes after some time of thinking about it. He stares up at the bathroom ceiling.)
Never have been. (He lets the water settle around them now that they had both relaxed into it. At least the tubs in this place were large enough to comfortably fit two grown men. There was no real risk of getting water everywhere unless Eddie got riled back up.)
She was always pretty convinced about your foul mouth. Like...huge emphasis on your mouth. I always figured she was trying to call me out for always staring at it. (He smiles to himself but there was something a little sadder there. He touches the edge of his own mouth, reflecting on all of that. He had been so thrilled the day they had first kissed. Excited, scared. He pushes himself back up so that he could look across the water at Richie. He lifts one of his feet out of the water to nudge it up under Richie's jawline.)
I was just as much trouble as you were. I mean. I was sneaking the boy I wanted to kiss into my room at night on a semi-regular basis. I'm still doing that. (The only difference now was that they were both Dominants and this city wasn't such a fan of two Dominants obsessing over each other.)
[Another thinly veiled sex joke? Absolutely. Nothing was too low-brow for the two of them and something about being together like this felt right. Richie reaches up and pushes the pad of his thumb into the arch of Eddie's foot when it reaches his jaw. He's not much for foot stuff, but he's always open to a comforting touch. A soft caress. His soft side balances well with his rough and mischievous demeanor.]
Poor old Mrs. K, rolling in her grave right about now. If she knew what I did to her precious sweet boy.
[Tweny-something years later, but it's not like he hadn't fantasized about it as early as fifteen. They snuck each other in and out often but most of the time Richie wound up over there after climbing up the lattice just to be with him.]
So much for old habits, huh? Pretty sure I would've found a way to make this happen even if you didn't.
Well yeah, but you're not dirty in like- you know. The way my mom thought...Actually, no, you totally are.
(The proof of that had started to fade by now, but the memories certainly hadn't. It had been a while since they had actually gotten off together, but it didn't change the fact that they had fucked, and had fucked like animals. Eddie wasn't much for foot stuff either, but it had always served as a way to tease Richie at a distance when he was a kid. It was a lot more about touching, being close. Even now, he could feel himself melting straight into the tub from Richie's soft touches.)
She's probably doing a lot more than rolling in her grave. I'm pretty sure her greatest fear of all time was that you'd defile me and steal me away, and I'm pretty sure we've accomplished both of those things here.
(Eddie gives Richie one of those 'sweet' smiles of his, and he pulls his foot from Richie's grip. He slides around in the tub, moving onto his knees and then sliding forward across Richie's body so that he could lay against his chest in the water. He comes to settle on him, resting his cheek against Richie's shoulder. Their bodies felt fused together, and Eddie couldn't tell if that was from the booze, the water, or just because that's how he always wound up feeling whenever he was this close to Richie.)
Yeah, I'll bet you woulda. (He smiles against Richie, rolling himself over so he was sitting properly in Richie's lap, back against Richie's chest. A lot of moving around, sure, but Eddie was starting to settle down. He slides his hands over Richie's arms, before dragging them down under the water and wrapping them around himself for Richie.)
What, you finally getting into my pants after all this time?
[Eddie had this way of leaving him breathless without even trying. After so long, decades, that still stayed true. Richie was completely at his mercy and awed by how far they'd come and how far they'd gotten.
He still wanted to fuck Eddie properly, just the two of them without something to move things along. First, it was the requirement, then it was a cult. After that, sleepwalking boner juice that could bring down Big Pharma itself. Now Eddie was drunk and that didn't feel right either. He had a needling urge to do it right, without anything urging them along and every time he came close it all slipped away or became obstructed by some new thing.]
Good. I hope us fucking is her IMAX, 360, surround sound brand torture in the afterlife. I really would've loved to bake her a cake that said "I'm fucking your son," on mother's day or something, but my imagination's just gonna have to do.
[They both could do a lot worse than each other, had done a lot worse than each other. Richie had been at the bottom of the bottle and the barrel. He'd cheated death a million times before IT came back to sink his teeth in him.
Richie settles pliantly under each little swivel and sway of Eddie's hips with no trace of impatience. The bath and being with Eddie like this wasn't how he planned to spend his night, but it was warm and calming in the way only being with Eddie could be.]
Well, yeah, but also just - us. You know?
[It's a non-committal way of putting it, a small way to guard his heart. Eddie had been it, from the tender age of thirteen onward and any sense of emotion he may have felt for anyone overtime was dwarfed by what he felt for Eddie.]
(Eddie was starved for some sense of normalcy in their intimate life. He was hyperaware of the fact that they hadn't come together organically yet, and he felt worn thin by the fact that he'd been leading them through the motions again and again. Even tonight he'd felt that deep longing for Richie, and he wanted him even now, but the booze was working against his libido and mostly he just felt like curling up with Richie more than trying to properly seduce him again.
He laughs loudly, the noise bouncing off the ceramic bathroom tiles, and it almost sounds identical to how he used to laugh. He doesn't even know the last time anyone had ever made him laugh like this. Actually, no, that wasn't true at all. Even with amnesia Eddie had known the last time he laughed properly had been when he was a teenager even if he couldn't quite remember what had made him crack up. Now he knew.)
I hope. Sorry, momma. (Not remotely sorry. With everything, his mother had put him through. Eddie laughs again, and it's a softer, more broken sound that half sounds like a sob. He turns to press his face back against Richie's shoulder, sniffling quietly. He wasn't crying, but he was - emotional.) Who knows, right? We already defied logic and reality once. Maybe we'll catch a second break and get to see the look on her face over that.
(Wishful thinking, but Eddie had come back from the dead with his arm in tact so hey. Not completely outrageous.
Eddie's quiet, fascinated, and his poor drunken mind was trying to figure out what Richie was saying. He knew it was important, and that it was telling, but he was too sluggish. He blinks, tipping his head back to look at Richie. It had always been Richie for him too. He had never actually developed feelings for anyone else besides Richie. Duplicity had been the first time he had tried to entertain the idea, but only because he felt like he should. Like he needed to try and let go of Richie if only for Richie's sake. Shouldn't Richie be allowed to be happy? Even if it wasn't with Eddie?
God knows Eddie wasn't mature or strong enough to really think about that directly. He'd sob and throw a cosmic fit from jealousy, but that was why he was trying. If I can walk away from this then maybe...
The only problem was that he knew he never could walk away from Richie. No matter who he met or where he tried to distract his attraction and attention. Even the men he'd met in this city paled in comparison, and Eddie found himself constantly comparing them to Richie. Richie who was just the golden standard. The Ideal Man. The perfect-everything in Eddie's mind.
But Eddie had thoroughly convinced himself it was completely one-sided. And it's that conviction that leaves him staring at Richie now, because he wasn't sure what Richie meant by us and 'making them happen.'
Eddie smiles hesitantly after a second, and nudges Richie gently.)
No offense but I'm pretty sure the only reason we're even here right now is 'cause I've been pawing at you since we arrived.
[Eddie's laughter resonates in the bathroom with them like a far off melody and Richie listens to it, tries to pinpoint when it moves from one wall to the next and how it seems to bring the still steamy water around them to life with tiny ripples. Evidence that it happened, and that they were very much still here. Those odds, defying logic, it didn't seem like anything but a gift now and Richie's hand finds the wet curls of Eddie's hair at the back of his neck and he doesn't realize that he's tracing circles there until long after he started.]
As much as I like to imagine the look on her face, I like this better.
[Being here, like this, with him. Eddie has a smile that could warm him down to his core and it made him forget his worries. It did that now when he turned to face him and Richie finds himself staring, at his eyes, and at his rosy lips.]
I was always going to- I wanted to. [There's no excuse for his cowardice but the truth of things was so depressing he didn't want to linger there any longer than he had to.] You pawing at me had something to do with it, I mean- obviously, it did. But- we showed up together for a reason and I don't want to be here with anyone else but you.
(Eddie would give up seeing his mother's horrified face a million times over just to enjoy the feeling of Richie's hand in his hair. Of his warm, heavy body beneath him. Eddie stares back at Richie, and he wondered if Richie really was always planning on making some sort of move.)
We've been here for months. (Eddie doesn't know what he's trying to say with that. Or rather, he does, but he's just slightly too drunk to even realize how plainly he's put it out there. He wants to point out that they haven't exactly gotten up to anything beyond what's been required of them, but he's too distracted by the last statement.
Eddie thought about that a lot too, and it gets a thoughtful look growing on his face.)
I always wonder about that. I mean. I wouldn't sleep with any of the others, y'know? (The other Losers, he means, and he makes a small gesture.) It'd be weird. Bill's like my brother and everyone else just isn't my type and pretty plain in general. I guess that's why we were all Losers sorta, but...I mean you wound up real hot. Although I always thought you were.
(Which he didn't mean as any real offense to their friends, but he simply wasn't attracted to any of them.)
So yeah, obviously. I don't wanna be here with anyone else but you either. Talk about a nightmare.
[Mrs. K was out of the picture and now it was just him and Eddie, the way he'd always wanted it. Maybe not in the circumstances that they'd gotten together in, but the two of them all the same. The way he always thought they'd be.]
Yeah, I know. I guess I'm not as smooth as I like to think I am.
[Not even a little bit, he was a bundle of nerves around Eddie. Always concerned that he might misstep or that if things were less than perfect that they'd fall apart. It was a fragile and rare thing that had to be treated with care, not because of Eddie, but because it's all that he ever wanted.]
I haven't really been looking. [It takes Richie a moment for him to realize that Eddie was referencing the other losers, and he clicks his jaw shut before he says anything else he might regret. Him not having a vested interest in anyone else where they were now wasn't a good thing for either of them but those feelings can't be helped.] Oh, yeah, no Bill was a brother and the others were, well... Stanley was my best friend, kind of y'know, my very real Jiminy Cricket. I never looked at any of them the way I looked at you.
[And they were always looking at each other, stealing glances over the tops or the backs of their school books. Trading longing looks in the barrens and at the quarry. His entire life could be concentrated into a series of desperate looks toward Eddie, and wordless pleas.]
You grew up like I thought you would. Cute. Better with time, like some aged scotch or wine. I loved you as a kid, I mean, but now - you're really... just- [Richie holds a hand out, trying to explain just how attractive he was from the muscular tone to his thighs, his bubble-but, his torso, and legs but the words fail him. He smiles, sweetly, something proud in the way he dips his eyes down though barely able to see and leans in to aim a gentle kiss to Eddie's mouth. Actions spoke louder, after all.]
You thought you were smooth? (Eddie's only teasing Richie, and as much is evident by the smile on his face. The only real problem was that he didn't feel too convinced given everything that had been happening lately. If he were more sober he'd press about what kept Richie from coming to him after moments.
It's all Eddie had ever wanted too, and because of that he felt more sensitive to the situation. He ran fast and loose in this city as he tried to catch up on decades of inexperience and sex-anxiety. He was half convinced that Richie was settling for him too, and Eddie didn't want that both for the sake of his own heart and Richie's. Eddie was trying to move on, trying to let go of something he was convinced didn't really exist. Mostly to keep their friendship safe.
Eddie knew that the longer they stayed here, the more jealous he'd become, the more insecure, and what happened when Richie found someone.
He smiles at Richie, softer, shyer. It was one of those moments where he felt Richie was being sincere, felt like there was something special between them. He was glad to know it hadn't just been him. They would have dated if they had just been given the time, and Eddie knew that was true. Knew that there was enough of something between them that it would have been inevitable.
But that had been thirty years ago. He wasn't so sure that carried over to now - at least for Richie. Eddie laughs quietly, looking down at himself before over at Richie.)
Ah yes. Cute. The word every near forty year old wants to hear. (It wasn't a complete rejection of the compliment, necessarily. It was more of a casual acceptance. "Cute" was probably the only word he'd ever really been given, and it was one of those things where sometimes it felt patronizing and other times it was sweet to hear. He doesn't know what Richie meant when Richie gestures him at first. He is about to sink back down when Richie gives him this look and Eddie is already melting long before Richie kisses him.
He forgets whatever insecurity had begun to nibble at him, and instead wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, kissing him back, his mouth curved up at the corners. It suddenly made Richie struggling along with this whole thing seem more endearing than frustrating. Eddie winds up straddled on his lap, though it is more for comfort than to start anything, and he uses it to indulge in the kiss.)
[All the time, in fact, in secret moments and some not-so-secret in front of the other losers and their best friends. It's easy, being with Eddie here - simple in a way he didn't think it would be. Richie might not have been completely honest with Eddie, and he was withholding serious stuff like his love, how desperate he was to be with him but sharing that in the face of the struggle just to survive here seemed selfish. He owed Eddie his life, and so much more than that.
When Eddie rebukes the cute comment Richie untangle his fingers from his and gives hi fm a gentle pinch to the cheek. A protest, sure, but an old call-back to the way they were. Before life sunk its teeth into the both of them.]
Mm. Cute. Yeah, I don't really daydream about being called sexy or you being into my shoulders either. Cute's what made me fall for you the first time, so maybe try not to be such a little shit about it.
[The place he pinched gets a soft smack, the palm of his hand landing with more of a pat than anything firm or aggressive. Richie's placated by the kiss and would've gone onto to talk about his ass, his chest, the way his arms were now more defined by the liplock steals those words and replaces them with a hungry need.
I love you
God, the words echo in his brain and he silences them by using his tongue to push past the seam of Eddie's lips and taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue. He's clean, soft, and the flavor of Eddie combined with the scent of the bath salts makes his head spin.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
[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.
no subject
(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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
(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.
no subject
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?
no subject
(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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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's a stupid question, but he absolutely did and that was made even more evident by how Eddie blushes and dips back into the warm water. His feet have always occupied his personal space, too close for comfort. That was them, though, and it was as warm and as comforting as an old memory. Richie lets that wash over him and responds in kind by placing a palm at the base of Eddie's ankle while they relax.
He can hear Eddie talking, rambling, but with his glasses already obscured from the heat he's pushed them back on his hairline and he's just enjoying the closeness, listening absently while the warmth from the tub seeps in bone-deep.
It's not until Eddie groans that Richie checks back in, his thumb tracing small circles in a small patch of Eddie's leg hair.]
The only thing your momma was right about was that I'm dirty and I'm trouble. Everything else was crap and we both know it.
[Richie raises his brows and moves his neck to the base of the tub to support him as he slips further under the water.]
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(Eddie's starting to have a fit of laughter. It was completely worth Richie's reaction. Eddie's laughter trickles away. He props his arms against the edge of the tub, sighing at the feeling of Richie's thumb. He laughs again though, but it's a softer sound.)
You're not dirty.
(It's a thoughtful statement he makes after some time of thinking about it. He stares up at the bathroom ceiling.)
Never have been. (He lets the water settle around them now that they had both relaxed into it. At least the tubs in this place were large enough to comfortably fit two grown men. There was no real risk of getting water everywhere unless Eddie got riled back up.)
She was always pretty convinced about your foul mouth. Like...huge emphasis on your mouth. I always figured she was trying to call me out for always staring at it. (He smiles to himself but there was something a little sadder there. He touches the edge of his own mouth, reflecting on all of that. He had been so thrilled the day they had first kissed. Excited, scared. He pushes himself back up so that he could look across the water at Richie. He lifts one of his feet out of the water to nudge it up under Richie's jawline.)
I was just as much trouble as you were. I mean. I was sneaking the boy I wanted to kiss into my room at night on a semi-regular basis. I'm still doing that. (The only difference now was that they were both Dominants and this city wasn't such a fan of two Dominants obsessing over each other.)
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[Another thinly veiled sex joke? Absolutely. Nothing was too low-brow for the two of them and something about being together like this felt right. Richie reaches up and pushes the pad of his thumb into the arch of Eddie's foot when it reaches his jaw. He's not much for foot stuff, but he's always open to a comforting touch. A soft caress. His soft side balances well with his rough and mischievous demeanor.]
Poor old Mrs. K, rolling in her grave right about now. If she knew what I did to her precious sweet boy.
[Tweny-something years later, but it's not like he hadn't fantasized about it as early as fifteen. They snuck each other in and out often but most of the time Richie wound up over there after climbing up the lattice just to be with him.]
So much for old habits, huh? Pretty sure I would've found a way to make this happen even if you didn't.
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(The proof of that had started to fade by now, but the memories certainly hadn't. It had been a while since they had actually gotten off together, but it didn't change the fact that they had fucked, and had fucked like animals. Eddie wasn't much for foot stuff either, but it had always served as a way to tease Richie at a distance when he was a kid. It was a lot more about touching, being close. Even now, he could feel himself melting straight into the tub from Richie's soft touches.)
She's probably doing a lot more than rolling in her grave. I'm pretty sure her greatest fear of all time was that you'd defile me and steal me away, and I'm pretty sure we've accomplished both of those things here.
(Eddie gives Richie one of those 'sweet' smiles of his, and he pulls his foot from Richie's grip. He slides around in the tub, moving onto his knees and then sliding forward across Richie's body so that he could lay against his chest in the water. He comes to settle on him, resting his cheek against Richie's shoulder. Their bodies felt fused together, and Eddie couldn't tell if that was from the booze, the water, or just because that's how he always wound up feeling whenever he was this close to Richie.)
Yeah, I'll bet you woulda. (He smiles against Richie, rolling himself over so he was sitting properly in Richie's lap, back against Richie's chest. A lot of moving around, sure, but Eddie was starting to settle down. He slides his hands over Richie's arms, before dragging them down under the water and wrapping them around himself for Richie.)
What, you finally getting into my pants after all this time?
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He still wanted to fuck Eddie properly, just the two of them without something to move things along. First, it was the requirement, then it was a cult. After that, sleepwalking boner juice that could bring down Big Pharma itself. Now Eddie was drunk and that didn't feel right either. He had a needling urge to do it right, without anything urging them along and every time he came close it all slipped away or became obstructed by some new thing.]
Good. I hope us fucking is her IMAX, 360, surround sound brand torture in the afterlife. I really would've loved to bake her a cake that said "I'm fucking your son," on mother's day or something, but my imagination's just gonna have to do.
[They both could do a lot worse than each other, had done a lot worse than each other. Richie had been at the bottom of the bottle and the barrel. He'd cheated death a million times before IT came back to sink his teeth in him.
Richie settles pliantly under each little swivel and sway of Eddie's hips with no trace of impatience. The bath and being with Eddie like this wasn't how he planned to spend his night, but it was warm and calming in the way only being with Eddie could be.]
Well, yeah, but also just - us. You know?
[It's a non-committal way of putting it, a small way to guard his heart. Eddie had been it, from the tender age of thirteen onward and any sense of emotion he may have felt for anyone overtime was dwarfed by what he felt for Eddie.]
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He laughs loudly, the noise bouncing off the ceramic bathroom tiles, and it almost sounds identical to how he used to laugh. He doesn't even know the last time anyone had ever made him laugh like this. Actually, no, that wasn't true at all. Even with amnesia Eddie had known the last time he laughed properly had been when he was a teenager even if he couldn't quite remember what had made him crack up. Now he knew.)
I hope. Sorry, momma. (Not remotely sorry. With everything, his mother had put him through. Eddie laughs again, and it's a softer, more broken sound that half sounds like a sob. He turns to press his face back against Richie's shoulder, sniffling quietly. He wasn't crying, but he was - emotional.) Who knows, right? We already defied logic and reality once. Maybe we'll catch a second break and get to see the look on her face over that.
(Wishful thinking, but Eddie had come back from the dead with his arm in tact so hey. Not completely outrageous.
Eddie's quiet, fascinated, and his poor drunken mind was trying to figure out what Richie was saying. He knew it was important, and that it was telling, but he was too sluggish. He blinks, tipping his head back to look at Richie. It had always been Richie for him too. He had never actually developed feelings for anyone else besides Richie. Duplicity had been the first time he had tried to entertain the idea, but only because he felt like he should. Like he needed to try and let go of Richie if only for Richie's sake. Shouldn't Richie be allowed to be happy? Even if it wasn't with Eddie?
God knows Eddie wasn't mature or strong enough to really think about that directly. He'd sob and throw a cosmic fit from jealousy, but that was why he was trying. If I can walk away from this then maybe...
The only problem was that he knew he never could walk away from Richie. No matter who he met or where he tried to distract his attraction and attention. Even the men he'd met in this city paled in comparison, and Eddie found himself constantly comparing them to Richie. Richie who was just the golden standard. The Ideal Man. The perfect-everything in Eddie's mind.
But Eddie had thoroughly convinced himself it was completely one-sided. And it's that conviction that leaves him staring at Richie now, because he wasn't sure what Richie meant by us and 'making them happen.'
Eddie smiles hesitantly after a second, and nudges Richie gently.)
No offense but I'm pretty sure the only reason we're even here right now is 'cause I've been pawing at you since we arrived.
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As much as I like to imagine the look on her face, I like this better.
[Being here, like this, with him. Eddie has a smile that could warm him down to his core and it made him forget his worries. It did that now when he turned to face him and Richie finds himself staring, at his eyes, and at his rosy lips.]
I was always going to- I wanted to. [There's no excuse for his cowardice but the truth of things was so depressing he didn't want to linger there any longer than he had to.] You pawing at me had something to do with it, I mean- obviously, it did. But- we showed up together for a reason and I don't want to be here with anyone else but you.
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(Eddie would give up seeing his mother's horrified face a million times over just to enjoy the feeling of Richie's hand in his hair. Of his warm, heavy body beneath him. Eddie stares back at Richie, and he wondered if Richie really was always planning on making some sort of move.)
We've been here for months. (Eddie doesn't know what he's trying to say with that. Or rather, he does, but he's just slightly too drunk to even realize how plainly he's put it out there. He wants to point out that they haven't exactly gotten up to anything beyond what's been required of them, but he's too distracted by the last statement.
Eddie thought about that a lot too, and it gets a thoughtful look growing on his face.)
I always wonder about that. I mean. I wouldn't sleep with any of the others, y'know? (The other Losers, he means, and he makes a small gesture.) It'd be weird. Bill's like my brother and everyone else just isn't my type and pretty plain in general. I guess that's why we were all Losers sorta, but...I mean you wound up real hot. Although I always thought you were.
(Which he didn't mean as any real offense to their friends, but he simply wasn't attracted to any of them.)
So yeah, obviously. I don't wanna be here with anyone else but you either. Talk about a nightmare.
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Yeah, I know. I guess I'm not as smooth as I like to think I am.
[Not even a little bit, he was a bundle of nerves around Eddie. Always concerned that he might misstep or that if things were less than perfect that they'd fall apart. It was a fragile and rare thing that had to be treated with care, not because of Eddie, but because it's all that he ever wanted.]
I haven't really been looking. [It takes Richie a moment for him to realize that Eddie was referencing the other losers, and he clicks his jaw shut before he says anything else he might regret. Him not having a vested interest in anyone else where they were now wasn't a good thing for either of them but those feelings can't be helped.] Oh, yeah, no Bill was a brother and the others were, well... Stanley was my best friend, kind of y'know, my very real Jiminy Cricket. I never looked at any of them the way I looked at you.
[And they were always looking at each other, stealing glances over the tops or the backs of their school books. Trading longing looks in the barrens and at the quarry. His entire life could be concentrated into a series of desperate looks toward Eddie, and wordless pleas.]
You grew up like I thought you would. Cute. Better with time, like some aged scotch or wine. I loved you as a kid, I mean, but now - you're really... just- [Richie holds a hand out, trying to explain just how attractive he was from the muscular tone to his thighs, his bubble-but, his torso, and legs but the words fail him. He smiles, sweetly, something proud in the way he dips his eyes down though barely able to see and leans in to aim a gentle kiss to Eddie's mouth. Actions spoke louder, after all.]
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It's all Eddie had ever wanted too, and because of that he felt more sensitive to the situation. He ran fast and loose in this city as he tried to catch up on decades of inexperience and sex-anxiety. He was half convinced that Richie was settling for him too, and Eddie didn't want that both for the sake of his own heart and Richie's. Eddie was trying to move on, trying to let go of something he was convinced didn't really exist. Mostly to keep their friendship safe.
Eddie knew that the longer they stayed here, the more jealous he'd become, the more insecure, and what happened when Richie found someone.
He smiles at Richie, softer, shyer. It was one of those moments where he felt Richie was being sincere, felt like there was something special between them. He was glad to know it hadn't just been him. They would have dated if they had just been given the time, and Eddie knew that was true. Knew that there was enough of something between them that it would have been inevitable.
But that had been thirty years ago. He wasn't so sure that carried over to now - at least for Richie. Eddie laughs quietly, looking down at himself before over at Richie.)
Ah yes. Cute. The word every near forty year old wants to hear. (It wasn't a complete rejection of the compliment, necessarily. It was more of a casual acceptance. "Cute" was probably the only word he'd ever really been given, and it was one of those things where sometimes it felt patronizing and other times it was sweet to hear. He doesn't know what Richie meant when Richie gestures him at first. He is about to sink back down when Richie gives him this look and Eddie is already melting long before Richie kisses him.
He forgets whatever insecurity had begun to nibble at him, and instead wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, kissing him back, his mouth curved up at the corners. It suddenly made Richie struggling along with this whole thing seem more endearing than frustrating. Eddie winds up straddled on his lap, though it is more for comfort than to start anything, and he uses it to indulge in the kiss.)
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[All the time, in fact, in secret moments and some not-so-secret in front of the other losers and their best friends. It's easy, being with Eddie here - simple in a way he didn't think it would be. Richie might not have been completely honest with Eddie, and he was withholding serious stuff like his love, how desperate he was to be with him but sharing that in the face of the struggle just to survive here seemed selfish. He owed Eddie his life, and so much more than that.
When Eddie rebukes the cute comment Richie untangle his fingers from his and gives hi fm a gentle pinch to the cheek. A protest, sure, but an old call-back to the way they were. Before life sunk its teeth into the both of them.]
Mm. Cute. Yeah, I don't really daydream about being called sexy or you being into my shoulders either. Cute's what made me fall for you the first time, so maybe try not to be such a little shit about it.
[The place he pinched gets a soft smack, the palm of his hand landing with more of a pat than anything firm or aggressive. Richie's placated by the kiss and would've gone onto to talk about his ass, his chest, the way his arms were now more defined by the liplock steals those words and replaces them with a hungry need.
I love you
God, the words echo in his brain and he silences them by using his tongue to push past the seam of Eddie's lips and taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue. He's clean, soft, and the flavor of Eddie combined with the scent of the bath salts makes his head spin.
Fuck.]
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