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Party For One

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Kissing Eddie again after everything is like a fucking revelation.

Richie had woken up from his impromptu post-orgasm nap feeling weird about Eddie not being there. He hadn’t necessarily expected Eddie to fall asleep with him but something about his absence felt off, felt wrong. Richie panicked, almost immediately, thinking that maybe he let things go too far. That maybe he freaked Eddie out.

But he’d tried to play it cool. Richie has a history of thinking any number of things were his fault that had nothing to do with him. He’d found Eddie in his room, asked him if he wanted dinner. The anxiety had returned full force the second he got Eddie’s short reply.

And then, god. Everything had really come out. And Richie’s glad, of course he’s glad, but they’d had to talk about some really tough shit. They’d had to be really honest and vulnerable and Richie hates being honest and vulnerable, it scares the shit out of him, but he’d done it, they’d both done it, and it sucked. Hearing Eddie talk about himself that way, as if he was unworthy and unwanted and anything other than the love of Richie’s goddamn life—Richie wanted to scream with it. And just. Knowing it was Richie’s fault, for never saying anything, for never making sure he knew. God, he was such an idiot. He can’t believe he never told him. Asked him what he needed and made sure he got it. This is all Richie’s fucking fault. For real this time.

But now they’re kissing, and it’s a fucking miracle. They kiss all the time, every day, they’ve kissed a lot already today, but after everything, after Richie genuinely thought Eddie might never want to touch him again not fifteen minutes ago, it’s such a fucking relief, and it’s good. It’s so good.

And just. Kissing Eddie, knowing that Eddie wants him. In every possible way. Kissing Eddie knowing that Eddie wants Richie to fuck him. Knowing that they’re going to have sex after this.

“Holy shit,” Richie says, kissing Eddie messily, climbing onto the bed and pressing Eddie down against his mattress under him just to kiss him harder. “Eddie, shit.”

“What?” Eddie says against his mouth, holding onto his shirt with both hands, trying to pull him down to lie on top of him.

“I don’t know.” Richie laughs a little, breathless. “We’re going to have sex.”

Eddie makes a small sound, leans up to bite at Richie’s lip. They’re still raw from earlier. “Yeah, I fucking hope so.”

God. You don’t know how long—” He cuts himself off, flushing hot.

“No,” Eddie says, gripping his shoulders. “Tell me.”

Richie swallows hard, pulls back to stare down at him. “Huh?”

“Tell me.” Eddie’s eyes are dark, endlessly dark. “How long.”

“Shit.” Want throbs through Richie’s body, and he goes hot with embarrassed arousal. “Since we were kids, Eds. Since before I even knew how it’d work I wanted you.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes are huge, searching. His hands are clenched tight in the fabric of Richie’s shirt.

Richie nods dumbly. The words are hard to find but he wants to say them, needs to say them, needs Eddie to know. He can’t believe he let Eddie just walk around not knowing. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says honestly. “You’re so fucking hot, Jesus Christ.”

Eddie scoffs. “I’m not.”

“Yes you are. You’re so fucking hot, look at you, did you think I don’t think you’re hot? Eddie?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, like Richie’s fucking joking. “Come on, Rich.”

“I’m serious! Oh my god, look at your— Look at you.” He gestures down at Eddie helplessly, then tugs up the hem of his sweater. “Take this off, I want to look at you, I am obsessed with you, why do you think I’m so horny every single day? Holy shit, I’m going to fuck you.”

Richie feels the way Eddie shivers underneath him. “Are you?”

Yeah.” Richie helps Eddie tug his sweater off over his head, and then rethinks Eddie’s question and says, a little desperate, “You could also fuck me. If you wanted.”

Eddie blinks up at him, his hair a wild halo around his head where he’s lying down across his bed, Richie’s shirt hanging off his shoulders. He’s breathing hard, and Richie wants to touch every single part of him. “Have you ever bottomed?”

Richie almost lost the thread of their conversation. “Huh? Uh, no. But I could, whatever you want, whatever makes you feel good. I’d like it. If you fucked me.”

Eddie makes a low sound, licks his lips. “I will,” he says. “Someday. But right now I’m not in the mood to spend five hours prepping you to take my cock when I am already fully prepared to take yours.” Richie goes hot, and that’s before Eddie adds, “Also, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for months and I’m desperate.”

Richie groans, head swimming. “Yeah, okay. Yeah. I’ll fuck you, I can’t wait to fuck you. Can you shut up now? I want to kiss you first.”

Eddie laughs, and then shuts up and pulls Richie back down to crush their mouths together painfully.

It goes kind of frantic from there, breaths coming fast and mouths moving clumsily, hands skittering over jaws, shoulders, chests. Richie maneuvers himself between Eddie’s legs and then hitches Eddie’s knees up on either side of his hips, palms his thighs until he’s squeezing around Richie’s waist. “Your thighs are so hot,” he says breathlessly, because he’s thought it a thousand times but he’s never said it, he’s such a moron for never saying it. “Always want them wrapped around me. Want to get my mouth on them.”

Eddie makes a sound between a hum and a moan and lifts his feet to hook behind Richie’s ass and pull him down, so that he’s flat against Eddie’s body. Their crotches line up, more or less, and the contact goes through Richie like lightning. He struggles to pull away.

“Wait,” he says, even as he catches Eddie’s mouth in another quick kiss, can’t help himself. “Wait, is this okay? I want to make sure—”

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans, and then rolls his hips up against Richie’s languidly.

Richie’s mind whites out for a second, and he pushes back on instinct, chasing the pleasure that sparks in his gut. “Shit,” he mutters, and then they’re doing it again, and again. Just grinding against each other, and kissing messily, and it feels so fucking good, it’s insane.

“Eddie,” Richie whispers, a shocked sound, mouth slack against the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “God, fuck, I dreamed about this.”

“You did?” Eddie is breathing hard against Richie’s cheek.

“Yeah, god, all the time. All through high school.” Richie can feel the swell of Eddie’s cock through his sweats and Eddie’s shorts, and the drag of it against Richie’s is delicious. “Wanted you so bad.”

Eddie makes a punched out sound, grinds against him harder. Lights explode behind Richie’s eyes. Eddie slips his tongue into Richie’s mouth and that’s it, he can’t handle it, he has to pull away and flop down on the bed next to Eddie, gasping for breath.

“What the fuck,” Eddie says, grabbing for him clumsily as Richie’s chest heaves. “Richie I swear to god if you came already—”

Richie laughs, an arm over his eyes. “No, fuck, I just. I’m going to die, Eds, I’m losing my mind. It’s so good I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Eddie snorts, and then rolls himself over top of Richie, straddling one thigh and rolling his hips into it. “I know what to do,” he says, voice dark, eyes darker. “It involves your dick, in my ass.”

Richie groans, staring up at him. He holds onto Eddie’s hips, feels their rhythmic push against his thigh. Eddie Kaspbrak is riding his thigh. Holy fucking shit. “Okay,” he says dumbly. “I—what do you like? I don’t want to hurt you. Or, or make you feel weird, or bad, or—”

“Richie,” Eddie says, cutting him off. “Literally, I am going to lose my shit very soon. I will take anything at this point. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I might,” Richie says, trembling a little as he feels the very clear shape of Eddie’s dick against his hip. God, he’s never even seen it.

“If you do, I’ll fucking tell you, and then you’ll stop. That’s how sex works, dipshit. You’d know if we ever had any.”

Richie laughs a little at that, overwhelmed and ridiculously turned on. “Okay,” he says, starting to get kind of desperate himself. “Yeah, okay. You’ll tell me if you want me to not do anything? Or if you do want me to do anything?”

Yes. Oh my god. If I need to tap out you will know, immediately. Now take off your pants.”

Richie’s face flushes hot, and he scrambles for the waist of his sweatpants. “You too?” he says, as Eddie helps him pull them off. “I mean, you don’t have to, just—”

“Rich, how the fuck are you supposed to fuck me if I still have my shorts on?” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. God, Richie loves him so much.

“It’s possible!” Richie insists. “Also, if you want to change your mind about getting fucked—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I know, Richie, I will tell you. I’m forty fucking years old, I know how to have sex!”

Richie scrambles up onto his knees while Eddie is still kneeling next to him, folding his sweatpants. “I just don’t want you to regret it!” he says desperately. “Eddie, you told me you’d never had good sex before. I don’t want our first time to suck for you, too.”

Eddie’s eyes go soft, even if he’s still frowning at Richie—the edge of his mouth curls up a little. “It won’t,” he says. “Or maybe it will, because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. But I won’t regret it. I want it, Rich. Really bad. This whole thing is months overdue. I’m not a horny teenager making decisions I’m not ready for. I appreciate you worrying about me, but it’s not necessary. I love you. I trust you. And I want you to fuck me now. As soon as possible.”

Richie swallows thickly, and leans in to kiss him deeply, overcome with emotion, one hand buried in his wild hair. “I love you,” he mumbles against Eddie’s mouth, kicking at his lower lip. “I love you so, so much.”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, smiling into it. “Now help me take my shorts off.”

Richie’s hands fly, instinctively, to Eddie’s ass, and the elastic waistband of his shorts. He doesn’t stop kissing him as he slides the waistband down slowly, carefully, around the curve of his ass. For the first time in his life, Richie palms Eddie’s bare ass with both hands, thumbs just brushing the warm cleft. Eddie groans softly, and his ass flexes, and Richie’s heart skips a beat. “God, what an ass,” he mutters, mostly unthinkingly.

Eddie laughs softly. “Okay, Rich, you’re laying it on a little thick.”

Richie jerks back, away from his mouth, to look at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? Eddie. This ass has inspired so many wet dreams, and probably not just mine. I want to worship this ass.”

Eddie grins self-consciously. “Yeah?”

Yes.” Richie digs his fingers into the meat of it desperately.

Eddie’s throat bobs. “Then do it.”

Oh, holy shit. Between one second and then next, Richie is tugging Eddie’s shorts farther down, pressing Eddie back against his pillows to pull them all the way off his legs. His cock springs free, and Richie takes a moment to stare at it, hard and flushed and gorgeous. He has a really nice cock, and for a second all Richie can think about is feeling it in his hands and his mouth and letting Eddie absolutely wreck him with it. But no, not now—he has something else to do. “Turn over,” he says breathlessly.

Eddie leans back on his elbows and says, “You gonna finger me?”

“I am going to finger the hell out of you,” Richie tells him. And then Eddie turns onto his stomach, legs slightly spread and ass on full display, and Richie blurts, “Can I eat you out?”

There’s a moment of crushing silence, and then Richie says, “Sorry—!” at the same time that Eddie says, with his whole chest, “Yes.”

Richie almost swallows his tongue. “Yes?”

“God, yeah. Richie. Please.” Eddie tips his head down to rest against his folded arms. “Do it.”

A thrill runs through Richie, and he almost has to ask Eddie if he can go run a lap or two, just so he doesn’t explode. But there’s no time—Eddie is spreading his legs wider, and his ass is right there, covered with a spray of alluring freckles, and Eddie wants Richie to eat him out. Eddie’s first gay sexual experience is going to be getting his ass eaten and Richie gets to be the one to do it.

It feels like he’s moving through water, as Richie shifts to position himself between Eddie’s legs again. He trails his fingers up Eddie’s thighs, thumbs over the crease where they meet his ass, smooths his palms over the warm skin of both cheeks. Spreads them, just a little, to catch his first glimpse of his hole. “Shit,” he whispers.

“Richie,” Eddie says, voice hoarse. “Please fucking do something.”

Richie doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much. So many things he’s dreamed of doing. He can barely handle it. He has no idea where to start.

His hand moves of its own accord, thumb dipping between his cheeks to rub over his rim. It twitches, and Eddie groans, and Richie’s mouth waters. He rubs over it again, harder, and then leans down and kissing the dip of his ass, just above it, right over a cluster of freckles. Eddie’s groan turns into a rough whine.

“Rich, please. Please, please, please, I am fucking begging you—”

Richie’s head swims. He spreads Eddie’s cheeks with both thumbs, kisses another freckle just at the edge of one cheek, and then presses in to lick hard over his rim.

***

“Oh, shit.” Eddie’s back arches the second Richie’s tongue touches him, and his whole body spasms. “Richie, fuck.”

“Bad?” Richie asks, pulling away.

Eddie tries to laugh, but it comes out like a bark. “Are you kidding? Do it more, you coward.”

Richie swallows audibly, and instead of actually doing anything, he says, “What are you all cool with? Like, I know how you are, and it’s not very sanitary—”

Eddie shifts his hips desperately, trying to hide how fucking red his face is, because his ass is in Richie’s face and literally two seconds ago he was begging Richie to eat him out. “I know it’s not fucking sanitary, Richie, oh my god, that’s why I’m not the one doing it! If you don’t want to do it then by all means back the fuck off but you’re the one putting your mouth on my ass, I don’t care what the fuck you do, just fucking—”

Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to finish before Richie is burying his face in Eddie’s ass and kissing his rim sloppily, his mouth wet and eager. Eddie moans high and needy, scrabbling at his pillow and pushing his hips down against his sheets. Richie responds with a moan of his own, and Eddie’s toes curl at the feeling, legs moving restlessly on either side of Richie’s body. “Rich, Richie, holy shit, fuck,” he gasps, as Richie licks over his rim roughly, just absolutely goes to fucking town on his ass. “I’m going to lose my mind.”

Richie just hums in response, making disgusting sounds against him, kissing and sucking wetly. Eddie barely registers it, absolutely lost to the sensation of Richie’s mouth on him, the rasp of his facial hair on sensitive skin, the slick, velvety pressure of his tongue laving over him. Eddie’s never felt anything like it before, and it is unsanitary, it’s fucking gross, but it feels so fucking good. He moans into his pillow, can’t stop himself, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, entire body trembling.

And then Richie pushes his thighs farther apart, and spreads his cheeks wide, and pushes his tongue into Eddie, and Eddie fucking loses it. He bites back a scream, grinding hard into the mattress, and instead lets out a sob, eyes watering with how good it feels, how filthy and obscene and incredible. Richie slides his tongue back out, and then back in, just teasing inside the rim, and then pressing it slowly deeper. Eddie keens out his pleasure, pushing up onto his elbows, trying to crane his neck around to see.

Richie’s eyes are tightly closed when Eddie first looks at him, brows furrowed and hair everywhere, face buried in Eddie’s ass. But he seems to feel Eddie’s gaze and opens them after a second, and his eyes are unbelievably dark, piercing through his glasses. He holds Eddie’s gaze as he pushes his tongue into him, unbelievably slow.

Eddie has to look away, and not just because it’s killing his neck to look over his shoulder like that. “Fuck, Richie, god,” he says, mouth clumsy, eyes wet. Pleasure shivers up his spine, pools in his groin. “I can’t, I can’t— I’m gonna fucking blow.”

Richie pulls away with a wet, sucking sound. “Good,” he says hoarsely. “Want to make you come.”

“Not like this,” Eddie gasps, at the same time that Richie curls his tongue back into him. “Fuuuck, Rich, come on, I want— God, I want you to fuck me.”

Richie moans right into him. “Fuck, Eds,” he says, kissing messily over the edge of his ass. “I don’t know if I’ll last that long.”

“I need you to,” Eddie says urgently, head hanging as a shiver of pleasure wracks him. “I need it, Richie, I need you to fuck me.”

Richie groans, and rests his stubbly cheek right on top of Eddie’s ass. “You’re so hot,” he says plaintively. “I want to fuck you so bad but I’m going to die before I can.”

A tremor runs through Eddie at that, at Richie saying that, saying he wants to fuck him. God, for so long Eddie thought he didn’t. That he might never. He’d accepted that. The fact that, that Richie wants him. It’s overwhelming.

“Get up,” he says, shifting his leg to kick Richie gently with his heel. “Go brush your teeth.”

“Huh?”

“In case I need to make out with you,” Eddie says. “Also to give you a chance to cool off a bit. And then come back here and fuck me.”

“Eddie,” Richie groans. “I can’t walk with my dick this hard, have mercy on me.”

“Well you better learn,” Eddie says. “It was your idea to eat me out. Go brush your teeth.”

“This is torture.” Richie kisses the dip of his ass sadly. “See if I ever do this again.”

Eddie laughs, and bites his tongue to keep from begging Richie to just keep going. “We’ll get some bedside mouthwash. Come on, Rich, go.”

Richie groans all the way through it, but he heaves himself upright, and disappears into the bathroom. Eddie turns over to lay on his back, propped up against the headboard, and shivers at the chilly draft that sneaks between his wet cheeks. The skin there is almost raw with sensitivity, and Eddie licks his lips as he reaches down to brush a finger over it. Richie’s stubble really did a number on him, and Eddie trails his fingertips over the prickling skin, still slick with saliva. He shudders at the sensation of it, thinking about Richie’s mouth there, licking at him, licking into him. Plays it over in his mind as he listens to Richie brushing his teeth across the hall. Sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and then presses two fingers against his rim, squirms against them.

Eddie’s fingered himself plenty in the last six months, but not like this, not right after Richie’s just finished eating him out. His breaths come fast and shallow, and he presses the tip of one finger into himself, just to feel it. It slides in easily, as loose and wet as he is, and the feeling of it makes him whimper softly. It’s not as good as Richie’s tongue, but pleasure still curls in his gut, throbs through his cock. He closes his eyes and sighs, rubs around his rim gently.

A voice from the doorway says, “Hey Eds— Holy shit.”

Eddie’s eyes spring open, and he freezes, pulling his hand back at the shocked look on Richie’s face in his bedroom doorway.

“No!” Richie says quickly, eyes going panicked. “Don’t— I mean, you can. You can keep doing that. If you want.”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat. He trails his hand back down to his thigh, tentatively, meeting Richie’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“Fucking hot,” Richie says, quietly, like it’s not entirely for Eddie to hear. “Holy shit.”

Eddie’s face flushes hot, and he’s not completely sure he believes Richie, that he’s not just saying that out of pity or something, but he likes it anyway, likes the look in Richie’s eyes, feels a little drunk with it. He presses his hand back between his legs, sinks his fingertip back into himself. The sensation goes through him like lightning.

Richie’s throat bobs, and he watches raptly, leaning against the doorframe. “Fuck,” he mutters, scratching at his thigh, like he’d rather be touching something else. And then he blurts, “I thought about this.”

Eddie swallows thickly, rubbing around his rim slowly. “What?”

“You touching yourself.” Richie looks embarrassed, saying it out loud. But he does it anyway. “Because I knew you did, at least sometimes. And—and watching. I thought about you letting me watch.”

Eddie’s heart thuds in his throat. “Really?”

Richie nods, chews on his lip. Looks between Eddie’s face and his hand. “All the time.”

A moan claws at Eddie’s throat. He spreads his legs wider.

“Can you go deeper than that?” Richie asks, and his voice is wrecked.

Eddie shakes his head, feeling a little like he’s about to pass out. “Not without lube or something.”

“Right,” Richie says dumbly, and then, with more feeling, “Right. That’s— I came to ask you if you needed me to grab some. From my room.”

Eddie shakes his head again, panting into the still air of his room. “I have some.” He pauses, and then adds, “It’s, uh. It’s oil-based.”

“Um, okay.” Richie takes a few steps closer, looking around. “Where is it?”

“I just mean.” Eddie sniffs, rubs his heel against his sheets. “Oil-based. So we couldn’t use a condom.”

“Oh,” Richie says, stopping short. “Um, that’s okay then, if you don’t want to do it. I mean, I think mine is like, water-based, so. But I don’t know how good it’ll be for. Anal. But if not using a condom makes you uncomfortable—”

“No!” Eddie blurts. “I— We don’t have to. Unless you want to. I mean, I guess if you’ve been...having sex with other guys—”

“Of course not!” Richie scrapes a hand through his hair. “You really don’t care?”

Eddie shrugs, looks away. “Six months is the window period for HIV,” he mumbles.

Richie laughs loudly. “So maybe waiting wasn’t such a bad idea,” he says. “You’ll really let me?”

Eddie rubs his palms over his thighs, pebbled with goosebumps. “STIs don’t just come from nowhere, Richie, someone has to already have one,” he says, maybe a little defensively. “I know how to have safe sex.”

“I know, Eds.” Richie looks at him fondly. “I just meant because it’s messy and kind of gross.”

“Oh.” Eddie clears his throat. “I don’t mind.”

“Ah.” Richie moves closer. “You like it.”

Eddie’s face flushes. “I’ve never done it,” he hisses. “Can you just get the lube out? It’s in the drawer.”

Instead, Richie walks over to the bed, kneels on the edge, and moves in to kiss him soundly. “I love you,” he says, voice low, eyes laughing.

“Love you too,” Eddie mutters, hot with embarrassment. “Now can we just have some fucking sex?”

Richie grins. “Can we.”

***

Nothing, Richie thinks, will ever be hotter than Eddie Kaspbrak sitting in his lap wanting to get fingered.

Having Eddie in his lap in any context is already something that gets Richie lightheaded. Feeling his lean, warm body and feeling the weight of him on Richie, and just having him that close. And feeling his ass on Richie’s thighs, and his thighs flexing, and his back arching. And he’s generally in this position to make out with Richie, slow and filthy and deep, and he is, right now, he is kissing the everloving fuck out of Richie literally five minutes after Richie was eating ass. But now, instead of Richie having to process all of this sensory input and try not to let it get to him, Eddie is literally grabbing his hand and guiding it down behind him, to the base of his spine.

“Shit,” Richie whispers, pulling his hand away to scrabble for the lube bottle. “Yeah, yeah, I will.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, licking into his mouth like it’s the only thing he cares about, hips shifting.

Richie is so hard he feels faint with it, even after leaving to brush his teeth. He tries to keep Eddie’s hips away from his, because coming in his boxers is a real concern at this point. “I’m—mmph—I’m gonna get lube on your sheets.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie says, arms over Richie’s shoulders, spine a sweet curve. “I’m good at getting the stains out.”

God, it’s so hot that he’s gotten off in this bed before, with this lube, in this room. This probably means that Eddie will let Richie fuck him with that dildo sometime. Shit.

“Okay,” he gasps, fumbling behind Eddie’s back to squeeze lube onto his fingers. “Here we go.”

“Can’t wait,” Eddie breathes, and it makes Richie want to cry for some reason. He could have been doing this months ago.

But he’s doing it right now, so that’s what he focuses on, kissing Eddie’s jaw as he spreads his ass with his clean hand and rubs his thumb down the cleft. Eddie squirms, gasps against Richie’s mouth. “Ready?”

“Yeah, Rich, come on.”

Richie catches his mouth in a kiss and slides a finger into him.

Oh,” Eddie says, like it’s a revelation. “Fuck.”

“I hope that’s a good fuck,” Richie says, not moving, letting Eddie adjust.

“Yeah, shit, it’s good. Kind of shockingly so.” Eddie shifts against it. “Why aren’t you moving?”

“Uh,” Richie says.

“I’ve done this before, you know,” Eddie says. “This isn’t my first time getting fingered, even if it was my own fingers before. Add another one.”

“You’re so hot,” Richie tells him dumbly, pumping his finger a couple times before sliding a second one next to it. Eddie is slick and hot and incredible inside. “Eds, what the fuck.”

Eddie makes a hah sound that turns into a whine. “You’re fingering me,” he breathes, right into Richie’s ear, sounding shocked about it. “Richie.”

“Yeah.” He slides his fingers in and out slowly, so that Eddie feels them. “You like it?”

“I wanted this so bad,” Eddie says throatily, and fucks his hips back against it needily.

Richie groans, cock throbbing. “Want to give it to you,” he says, moving to mouth at the crook of Eddie’s shoulder. “Want to make you feel so good.”

“It feels so good,” Eddie says, and his words are clumsy, like he’s drunk. “Kind of felt like a slut, how much I needed it.”

“Christ, Eddie.” Richie can barely catch his breath. “I’ll give it to you every single day. Whatever you want.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie says, and then Richie twists his fingers inside him and he stops talking and starts moaning instead, hips working.

God,” Richie says, and it comes out kind of like a sob. “I’m fucking dying here, Eddie, Eds, you made it sound like taking a break to finger you would make this easier.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie says, and kisses him messily, the wet tip of his cock brushing against the front of Richie’s shirt.

It’s really, really hard for Richie to focus on kissing when he’s trying to finger Eddie’s ass, but he tries his best, moving his mouth clumsily as he scissors his fingers apart, revels in the slick, filthy noises of it. The clutch of Eddie’s body is unbearably arousing, the sweet undulation of his hips as he tries to get more, tries to get Richie’s fingers deeper. Eddie sucks on Richie’s tongue right at the same moment that Richie prods at his rim with a third finger in askance, and it makes him shudder so hard that he just pushes it in without waiting for permission.

Eddie moans in response, rutting back against his hand, and Richie feels dizzy with lust.

“Eds,” he groans. “My wrist is killing me, this position is shit, can I—”

“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, cutting him off. “It’s time for you to fuck me.”

“Hnnngk,” Richie says, and slides his fingers out of Eddie’s ass. Eddie makes a desperate sound in response. “Are you sure?”

“Really, really sure. I need it.” Eddie pushes up on his knees and wipes sweat from his brow. “Get your dick out.”

Richie can’t help but laugh breathlessly, trying to squirm out of his boxers without getting lube all over them or the bed. “I love you so much,” he says, the words falling from his mouth without thinking about them. “Really, just, Eddie, I love you so much.”

Eddie’s stares at Richie’s cock as it bobs free, tongue swiping over swollen lips. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I love you too.”

“You’re not even trying to pretend you’re not talking to my dick,” Richie says, kicking his boxers off his feet.

Eddie’s eyes flick up to Richie’s. They’re unimaginably dark, and they make Richie shiver. “I love you so fucking much,” he says, voice low and serious. “I have also been dreaming about you fucking me for a really, really long time now. So please, if we could just—”

Richie swallows thickly. “Uh-huh,” he says dumbly. “Yeah. How do you want to—”

“Let me ride you,” Eddie says quickly, before he can even finish. “Please?”

Richie’s mouth hangs open. His hands grab instinctively for Eddie’s hips. “Okay,” he says breathlessly. “Yeah, let’s. Do that.”

There is something overwhelming about palming Eddie’s ass as he lifts up to position himself over Richie’s cock, once Richie has slid down enough that Eddie will fit into the cradle of his hips. Richie tries, desperately, to savour the moment. This is happening. They’re doing this. He slicks up his cock with lube quickly, holds tight to the base, prays that he doesn’t come as fast as he did when Eddie sucked his dick.

“Good?” Eddie says, hands braced against his headboard, the tip of Richie’s dick just brushing his ass.

Richie swallows thickly and nods. “A dream come true, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie smiles crookedly and rolls his eyes, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. “You’re such a fucking moron.”

And then he pushes down.

***

The first press of Richie’s cock into Eddie’s ass is, above all else, a fucking revelation.

“Hooooly shit,” Eddie hisses, as the head pushes past the first ring of muscle. His tongue feels like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he squeezes his eyes shut, leans over to cling to Richie’s shoulders as he relishes the feeling of it. “Oh, Richie, fuck.”

“Yeah,” Richie says hoarsely. “Talk to me, Eds.”

“You’re fucking big,” Eddie tells him, pushing down half an inch, and then back up. Richie’s shoulders flex under his hands. “I never—oh—never imagined it’d feel like this.”

“You’re so tight.” Richie’s voice is stretched thin, like he’s straining for something—or against something. “God, I wish I could kiss you.”

“Later,” Eddie breathes, smearing his palms down Richie’s chest, thumbing at one peaked nipple through his shirt. He should have told him to take it off earlier, fuck. He rocks back, takes another inch. “Shit, Richie. This is, this is—”

“Yeah?”

Everything. Ah, I can feel you so deep, and you’re not even all the way in—” Eddie sucks in a deep breath, bears down as he sinks onto Richie’s cock. It drags a pathetic noise out of him, and he whines, “Richie.”

“That’s it, I’ve got you.” Richie’s hands skate up and down his sides, rubbing lube into his skin but Eddie doesn’t care, soaking in the soothing contact. “You look incredible, Eds, you’re a dream.”

Something about his voice, deep and desperate, and his words, and the thick, heavy press of his cock inside Eddie make tears spring to his eyes, and he blinks them quickly, breath hitching. “It feels good, it feels really good. Richie, Richie—”

“You’re doing so good, you look so good. God, I want to come so bad.” Richie clutches at his sides, and when Eddie forces his eyes open, he sees Richie’s mouth hanging open, his head tipping back as he pants out quick breaths.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, voice breaking as he tears his gaze away from him to tip his head back, eyes blinking furiously. “God, I thought about this so much, oh.”

“Me too, Eddie, all the fucking time, wanted you so bad this whole time.” Richie’s hand trails up Eddie’s stomach, to his chest. “You’re perfect, you look so good in my shirt sitting on my dick, you look like you’re mine.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his chest, and his next moan comes out like a sob. God, just. Richie saying that, sounding like he means it, sounding like he wants Eddie, Eddie can barely take it. “I thought you didn’t want this,” he chokes, before he can stop himself.

“Eddie, baby, I mean it, I would have been happy without this, I would have been so happy no matter how I had you, but I want you every way, any way you’ll have me. Ask for anything and you’ll have it.”

Eddie whines, and rubs at his eyes roughly, and says, voice thick, “Then could you fuck me, asshole?”

Richie barks out a laugh that sounds suspiciously wet as well, and then he cants his hips up and pushes his cock deeper into Eddie, and neither of them are laughing anymore. Eddie moans weakly, and in a rush of lust he sits down fully, forcing Richie’s cock as deep as it can go. And it’s incredible, he’s so ridiculously full, he can’t stop making embarrassing noises as he squirms with the sensation, feeling every single inch of him. Richie is scrabbling at Eddie’s sides desperately, choking out Eddie’s name, and Eddie can barely even process it, the feeling of it all. There are tears prickling at his eyes again, overwhelmed by the intensity of it, and he just sits there for a few seconds, both palms on Richie’s chest, head hanging between his shoulders, panting and revelling in this moment.

“Eddie, Eddie,” Richie gasps. “Baby, I love you so much, you feel so good.”

Eddie makes some weak, pathetic sounds, and then rocks his hips, because as overwhelming as everything is, he also wants more, needs more. The thick, slick slide of his cock inside him is everything, nudging against his prostate, sending waves of pleasure up his spine. Eddie moans with it, arching his back and setting a clumsy, undulating rhythm. He forces his eyes open again.

Richie is staring up at him, eyes huge and shiny and amazed, mouth open in pleasure and awe, and Eddie has to choke back a sob at the feeling that triggers him. God, he wanted this so badly for so long. And now he’s getting it, and it feels so good.

He rocks his hips harder, and Richie moans brokenly. Eddie swallows, and lifts up on his knees, and Richie pushes up into him at the same time that Eddie sinks back down, and it’s ecstasy.

From there, Eddie really can’t be held accountable for his actions. Something snaps in him, and he can’t hold back. He holds onto Richie’s shoulders and just fucking loses it, hips working like he’s lost his fucking mind. Pleasure is building in his gut, and his thighs are burning, but he ignores it, mind buzzing with the feeling of Richie inside him, and Richie’s hands on his stomach, his chest, his hips. Eddie has some experience riding dick—he got a dildo with a suction cup base on purpose—but this is something else entirely, and it’s awoken something in him, something hungry and insatiable. He wants it deeper, harder, faster. He wants everything, all at once, but he also doesn’t want it to end and all he can do is ride Richie’s cock like his fucking life depends on it.

“Eddie, please, Eddie,” Richie is saying, fucking up into him desperately, eyes wet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“More,” Eddie gasps, keening as they find a really good angle. “Please, Richie, more, more.”

“Yeah, yes, get up.”

Eddie doesn’t even ask, just pulls off Richie’s cock, and then moves to crush their mouths together, because he thinks if he doesn’t kiss Richie right now he’ll fucking die.

“Yes, Eddie,” Richie groans, sliding his hands down Eddie’s back, slipping three fingers into him, like a bookmark keeping his place. Or maybe like he just wants to feel Eddie there, wet and loose. “Up, up, on your knees.”

Eddie groans, swings his leg over Richie’s thighs, and Richie guides him into turning around, down onto his knees, and then he settles behind Eddie and slides back into him, all at once. Eddie moans long and loud, face buried in his folded arms, and Richie just absolutely fucking rails him. It’s everything Eddie ever wanted, long hard strokes that rock through his entire body, the kind of power he couldn’t get from riding him, nothing painful, just strong. He’s so fucking strong, and his breaths are hot on Eddie’s spine, a second before he starts mouthing over the sweat-slick skin of his back. Eddie sobs into his mattress, loving it, speechless with it.

“Perfect,” Richie murmurs against him, fucking him so deep, so well. His hoarse voice is almost lost in the slap of skin on skin, and Eddie’s wordless noises. “You’re perfect, I love you, I’m so glad I get to do this, I’m so lucky, shit, Eddie, come on—”

“Richie,” Eddie chokes, his sheets damp with overwhelmed tears and saliva.

Neither of them see Richie’s climax coming—it seems to lance through Richie between one thrust and the next, fast and hard. He makes a wrecked noise, hips stuttering, cock jerking, and Eddie gasps at the feeling of him coming inside him, wet and warm. Richie’s teeth press gently into his spine, and he whines out a pathetic sound, thrusting weakly, hands tight on Eddie’s hips.

“Richie,” Eddie slurs, pushing his ass back against him, seeking more.

“Fuuuuuck,” Richie says blearily, and then, “Fuck, Eddie, sorry, I’m sorry—”

“If you fucking leave me hanging again—” Eddie starts to say, eyes stinging with how badly he needs to come, but before he can even finish the thought, Richie is pulling out, so fast it makes Eddie sob. But immediately, Richie is manhandling him clumsily up onto his knees against, and then back onto his ass, propped up on his elbows against his pillows. Eddie doesn’t even have time to ask what he’s going to do before he’s sprawling on his stomach at Eddie’s side and fitting his mouth over the head of Eddie’s cock, at the same time that he reaches under Eddie’s bent knee, between his spread legs, and pushes his fingers into him where he’s loose and sloppy.

Shit!” Eddie says, one hand flying up to curl into Richie’s hair. “Shit, Richie, fuck, fuck—”

Richie grunts but doesn’t pull back for a second, taking Eddie’s cock as deep into his mouth as he can and sucking him off fast and messy. His fingers push in and out of his hole at the same reckless rhythm, fucking his own come back into him, and Eddie can’t stand it, it’s all so much at once.

“Richie, please, please,” Eddie sobs, and he has no idea what he’s begging for, only that he feels like he’s going to fucking die. Richie’s glasses are slipping down his nose, and his head is bobbing quickly under Eddie’s hand, his back flexing as he fingers him. The sounds of it are filthy, wet and obscene, and Eddie thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He can’t take it, he can’t— “Rich, I’m gonna come, please.”

Richie presses his tongue into his slit, and then pushes so far onto Eddie’s cock that his throat convulses around him, and Eddie comes at the same time that Richie pulls off, coughing. Eddie’s orgasm crashes through him like a fucking tsunami, pulling pleasure up from his toes, tingling through his kneecaps and wrenching through his chest, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and writhes through it, head spinning.

He’s still groaning when he finally manages to open his eyes, his entire body throbbing. Richie has his head propped against Eddie’s thigh, breathing hard, and there’s come splattered across his entire face, glasses included. It’s absolutely disgusting.

“Holy fuck,” Eddie says, with feeling.

Richie’s swollen lips pull into a grin, and he cranes his neck to look at him. “Uh huh.”

“What the fuck,” Eddie says, shellshocked. “Richie, what the fuck?”

“Is that a good ‘what the fuck’?”

“I think you just sucked my brain through my dick,” Eddie tells him honestly, chest still heaving.

Richie laughs, and it’s throaty and hoarse and perfect. “Payback.”

“Get up here,” Eddie says, as annoyed as he can be when he just had the best fucking orgasm of his life. “Get up here right now and make out with me.”

“My mouth is gross,” Richie says, picking up his head weakly.

“Do I look like I fucking care right now?”

Richie’s eyebrows fly up his forehead—there’s come smeared in one of them. It’s fucking repulsive, and Eddie doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Before he can find it in himself to, Richie is scrambling to rearrange, so that they’re facing the same direction again, and he’s pressing their mouths together in a weak, clumsy-mouthed kiss. Neither of them have any energy for anything else, and Eddie doesn’t care, thinks it’s perfect anyway, thinks he could live the rest of the life on the feeling of this lazy, fucked-out kiss. There’s come smearing from Richie’s nose onto his cheek. There’s come leaking out of his ass. He feels so good it’s ridiculous.

“Fuck,” Richie breathes against his mouth, a blissed-out sound. He’s lying against Eddie’s body, half on top of him, and the weight of him is warm and grounding. “Was that good? Was that what you wanted?”

Eddie groans, trying to decide if he’s repulsed by his own come in his mouth. “Can you dial back the praise kink a little? I’m dead.”

“This isn’t my praise kink, this is me wanting to know if you’re feeling good about this.”

“Mmmm.” Eddie shifts restlessly—he’s really starting to feel that overenthusiastic riding, especially in his thighs. “I’m feeling great about this, except the part where I’m sticky and disgusting.”

“Mhmm.” Richie kisses him sloppily, their chests pressed together—Eddie thinks he can feel the pounding of both their hearts. “I fucked you good, right? This is my praise kink, by the way.”

Eddie snorts, his entire body feeling light and floaty and well-used. “Yeah, Rich. You fucked me good.”

“Good.” Another kiss. “Am I in charge of aftercare?”

“Mhmm.” Eddie feels like he’ll fall on his face if he tries to get up. “Can you clean me up?”

“Yeah, baby, I can clean you up.” Richie takes off his glasses and tosses them to the side, and then kisses Eddie’s eyelids, and the tip of his nose, and the curve of his cheek. “You were perfect, by the way. I have never felt so good in my life.”

Eddie can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. “That makes two of us, then.”

“Yeah? Good. I love you.”

“Oh my god, you’re so sappy after sex.” Eddie laughs weakly. “I love you too. Now go get a washcloth or something.”

“Mmkay.” Richie doesn’t move, kissing along his jaw, back down to his lips.

“Nnnngh.” Eddie catches his lips quickly, nudging his face up into it. He forces his eyes open, blinks up at Richie’s squinting, smiling face. “Thank you, by the way.” He swallows hard. “For...that.”

Richie’s eyes go warm and soft. “Eddie. It was my fucking pleasure.”

Eddie grins back. “Yeah. Almost worth the wait.”

Richie laughs, a hoarse crack of sound. “God, I love you. Okay, I’m getting up.”

Eddie hums, watches him groan as he gets to his feet next to the bed. “Don’t go far,” he says, letting his eyes flutter shut again. “That was good, but I waited six months for that. You owe me.”

There’s a pause, and then, “Eds, baby, if you are proposing a second round, I must warn you that I’m forty years old, and that was the third time I’ve come today.”

Eddie snorts. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Richie sighs, but it sounds more blissful than anything. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mmm. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He hears Richie laugh all the way to the hallway. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie my love.”