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love me like there's no tomorrow

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Richie was laying in his bed at the townhouse wishing he was drunk enough to justify staring blankly at the ceiling when he heard a knock at his door.

His first thought was oh shit, Pennywise, followed quickly by since fucking when does Pennywise knock, dumbass when there was another, significantly more frantic knock at his door. Even after twenty seven years, he knew exactly who that would be. Sure enough, as soon as he pulled the door open, he saw—

"Spaghetti! Just the man I wanted to see. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Eddie looked… antsy. He had always been excitable, full of boyish energy with no outlet for it, but Richie could tell that this was different. He bounced lightly on his feet as his gaze darted quickly around the room, his nervous energy making Richie's own heart skip a beat. What was wrong?

"Can I come in?" Eddie finally asked, eyes meeting Richie's as they finally froze on a target. Richie stepped aside to make room for him and shut the door again while Eddie situated himself on the bed. In a bout of oh my God what if this is a trick will anyone be able to save me if something goes terribly wrong , he left the door unlocked, just in case one of his friends needed to run in and save him from whatever was happening.

"So what's going on, Eds? I get that I'm irresistible, your mom told me that every day, but I didn't realize you thought that, too."

"Shut up, Richie. I'm serious."

"Okay, sure, but you haven't told me what's wrong yet." 

Eddie was quiet. Richie fidgeted nervously.


"What do you remember? About—about us, I mean."

"Let's see…" Richie cringed internally. Nearly all of his memories starred Eddie as the main focus, whether he was really essential to it or not. He kept getting flashes of memory, of swimming in the quarry and wrestling on the floor and laying in the hammock. They were l excuses to touch Eddie, even just for a moment. His crush had been easy enough to hide as a kid, but would Eddie notice now that he was older and (possibly) wiser? Would he be able to see that the feelings were still there, freshly unburied and on his sleeve? "I remember that we met in elementary school and were instantly best friends. I drove you crazy, I know I did, but you stuck around me anyways. I think it was 'cause you wanted a little bit of a break from your mom stifling you, even as a kid. I remember… we lost you in Neibolt, and by the time we found you, your arm was broken and you were on the menu for It's next snack."

"No, I mean. When we were older. When we…"

Suddenly, Richie could picture it clear as day. Fingers linking under the table. Mouths pressed against open mouths. Hands slipping under waistbands while parents were asleep. Their constant need to touch hadn't been quelled as they grew older so much as it had shifted into something new.

Richie gasped. Eddie watched him nervously, almost twitching with the anxiety of the memories. 

"We were… Oh fuck , were we dating?"

Eddie shook his head.

"I don't think so, at least not formally. But we were… together, I guess. Later on in high school."

"Oh man, I didn't remember that," Richie said, chuckling nervously. And then, because his mouth never knew when to fucking stop , he said, "I guess that means I don't have to try to hide that anymore, huh?"

Eddie's eyes grew impossibly wide and Richie mentally slapped himself. Way to go, Tozier. Nice job forgetting about his wife. How long do you think it'll take him to leave?

But Eddie had never been one to do what Richie expected. Not when he'd made the first move all those years ago, not when he'd demanded Richie remember, and certainly not when he stood up from the bed to walk over to Richie, hesitant yet sure of himself all at once.

"Do you…? Still?" 

"Do you?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, still used to Richie's deflections like they were second nature, because maybe they still were. Richie had never thought of himself to be an open book, but Eddie had a way of prying him open and reading between all of his lines, hearing the underlying yes, always , which is why Richie wasn't really surprised by how soft his voice was when he answered, "yeah."

Richie wasn't really sure who reached out first, but in a moment they were kissing and Richie couldn't help the contented sigh that escaped into Eddie's mouth. He wrapped his arms around Eddie's back and relished in the way he melted against him, pressing soft open-mouthed kisses against his mouth. Richie wasn't sure he'd ever been kissed so tenderly yet desperately before, but then, he'd never reunited with Eddie Kaspbrak before.

Somewhere between the kisses turning from soft to hungry, they ended up on his bed. The feeling of Eddie hovering over him, tongue licking hotly into his mouth, was doing embarrassing things to Richie's groin. Or rather, would-be embarrassing things, because as it was he could tell that Eddie was similarly affected, and didn't that just add fuel to the fire?

Richie slid a hand underneath Eddie's shirt tentatively and basked in the feeling of soft skin under his fingertips. Eddie shivered lightly and sat back just enough to tug his shirt off. Richie barely had a chance to admire the flat planes of his chest before Eddie's mouth was back on his, kissing him feverishly as he guided Richie's hand back up to his chest. He pinched lightly on one of his nipples and relished in the soft noise Eddie made into his mouth.

Eddie braced himself on one arm above Richie and used his free hand to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, pushing it back onto his shoulders so he could yank his undershirt up to his ribs. They broke apart again to peel Richie's shirts off and Richie tried hard not to pant in the absence of Eddie's tongue. 

It was surreal—the day before, he knew distantly that something was missing, but he couldn't put a finger on what. When he'd seen Eddie in the restaurant, he understood, but there was a difference between knowing you are the one I have been waiting for and having his tongue in his mouth and body under his hands. He was afraid to think about it for too long lest he do something significantly more embarrassing than pop a boner like start crying, though, so he decided to come back to that train of thought later.

As soon as Richie's shirts joined Eddie's on the floor, they were back together, licking into each other's mouths like they wanted to memorize the feeling (and hell, Richie did ). It didn't even occur to him to be self conscious, not when Eddie was making quiet noises against his tongue and spreading his fingers across Richie's chest. He let his hands drift lower, sliding his hand under Eddie's waistband to grip ass with one and palming him through his slacks with the other. Eddie inhaled sharply through his nose and pressed down into Richie's hand. Richie had to fight back a groan as Eddie's hand ghosted down his stomach and toward his button and zipper. 

(One perk of being on the bad side of 35, he supposed, was that he was much less likely to ruin his pants from that alone. Eddie hadn't even touched his dick yet but he felt better than he had in the past twenty years.)

Desperate fumbling led to the hurried removal of pants and then sparked a renewed sense of tenderness as they mapped each other's bodies carefully with their hands. Richie caressed Eddie's chest gently, relearning the way his ribs felt under his skin and all of the ways Eddie twitched and sighed into his mouth when Richie finally wrapped a hand around Eddie's dick. He broke the kiss to press his mouth into Eddie's neck, kissing and biting and mouthing at the skin. Eddie breathed heavily, eyes fluttering open to fix Richie with a look that was far too tender for him to deal with right then, thank you very much. The quiet noises Eddie was making as Richie jacked him off were already going straight to his dick, he didn't need to add something like lifelong feelings into the mix.

"Oh, fuck . Hey, Richie," Eddie panted quietly. Richie hummed softly in response. Eddie's eyes fluttered shut as Richie brushed his free hand across his nipple, but he continued anyways.

"Do you want to, oh , fuck me?"

Richie froze except for his hand trailing patterns up Eddie's stomach and chest. He relished in the way Eddie sighed above him. But even so… 

"Eds, have you had so much as a finger in your ass in the past twenty years?" Eddie flushed indignantly, frowning in a way that looked more like a pout. "Yeah, thought so. Maybe not the best idea when we've got a killer clown to fight tomorrow."

"So, what? You don't want to do this? Jesus, Rich, you should've said—"

"No! God, no, that's not what I meant at all. Just that, uh, I have? And not to say that we can't try that later, because yes please absolutely, but for now…"

The look in Eddie's eyes shifted from annoyed to something unfamiliar. He looked almost hungry as his eyes roved over Richie's body, and he nodded. Richie narrowly suppressed a shiver.

"Okay! Cool. There's, uh, there's a bottle of lube in my checked bag I'll grab quick, and then we can get this show on the road!"

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes but didn't protest as Richie rolled off the bed to search his bag. Luckily for his dick's sake, he didn't have to look for very long before he was grabbing it and bounding back over to the bed. He took a moment to appreciate Eddie laid out on the bed, bare and more relaxed than he'd been all night. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.

"Dude, are you coming back or not? We don't have forever."

And, well, there it was. In lieu of a reply, he flopped down onto his belly next to Eddie and grinned, pressing the bottle into his hand.

"Alright! Go to town, compadre." He wiggled his ass and practically felt Eddie's eye roll.

"Remind me why I'm attracted to you again?"

"Beats me. First love, or something like that." Richie cringed at his word choice. Great job breaking out the L-word, fucknuts. Way to make this awkward.

"Something like that," Eddie agreed, voice soft. He placed a hand gently on his ass and Richie tried not to jolt at the touch. Even though they'd been all over each other for what could've been hours already, there was something about the admission of love and the tender touch that made Richie's heart skip a beat annoyingly and realize simultaneously that no one had actually touched his dick yet. Oh well. That would have to come ( heh ) later.

Eddie's hand drew back and Richie heard the click of the bottle opening. One incredibly tense moment later, Eddie's cold finger brushed his entrance and Richie suppressed a shiver.

"You okay?" Eddie asked tentatively. Richie raised one hand in a thumbs up.

"Just peachy. You can do whatever you want. Hey, is it the lube or your hands that are so cold? Because if ssss ssoooh …" Richie trailed off as Eddie pressed into him. Eddie snorted.

"What was that?" he teased, circling his finger within Richie. He felt the tension drain from his shoulders.

"Don't remember. Are you sure you haven't done this before? Does dear Mrs. K 2.0 like a little assplay?" Richie asked. Eddie stilled.

" Please don't talk about my wife while my finger is in your ass. Or my mother, for that matter," he said sternly. Richie winced at his own terrible question. He propped himself up on one arm to twist around to look at Eddie, which— noted. That was a wonderful sight, aside from the sour expression.

"Hey man, I'm sorry. You're right." When that didn't clear Eddie's expression, Richie continued. "We can stop if you want to. I know you've got—yeah. Whatever you want."

Eddie shook his head and closed his eyes in defeat. He sighed.

"No, I—I should get a divorce anyways. It's not a good relationship, and, you know…" He trailed off. Richie wasn't sure if he was allowed to hope you know meant what he wanted it to, but for a moment, he did. 

"May as well go out with a bang, right?" Richie said, hoping to break some of the tension. After all, he wasn't sure he'd ever had such a serious conversation with a finger in his ass before, and his body was entirely unsure of how to react. Luckily, Eddie just laughed quietly and agreed.

"Yeah," he said, finally moving his finger again. "May as well."

He worked Richie open slowly, carefully adding a second finger after what felt like forever. He brushed lightly against his prostate and Richie jerked, gasping at the sensation like he'd never felt it before. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe every time he did anything without Eddie was just preparation for this moment. Maybe Eddie made it all feel that much better. Maybe Richie needed to take a step back and evaluate how quickly he'd fallen back in love with him. 

By the time Eddie added a third finger, Richie was quaking embarrassingly hard and throbbing from lack of contact in areas that weren't his ass, namely his dick. 

" Eds . C'mon, man, you're killing me," he groaned, and Eddie laughed. He pulled his hand away and Richie heard him fumbling with a condom from… He wasn't actually sure where. Not important. Richie rolled onto his back and Eddie blinked down at him in surprise.

"Is it cool if I…? I know I've got an old man back and all, but I wanna see you."

"Yeah, dude, go ahead," Eddie said with a nod. "Just don't, like, strain a muscle. I don't know how to tell Mike that his plan will have to wait because we became a sex statistic."

Richie cackled. Sorry, Mikey, he thought. 27 years of planning have nothing on my dick.

He threw a pillow under his hips and situated himself for Eddie. With the addition of a view, Richie was afraid that maybe he was going to be gone embarrassingly quickly. Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in concentration as he lined himself up, and Richie wanted to ingrain the picture in his mind. Slowly, carefully, Eddie pushed in.

Richie let his eyes flutter shut, basking in the feeling of Eddie inside of him. He gripped blindly at Eddie's shoulder.

"Feels good, Spaghetti," he grunted. When he opened his eyes again, Eddie was glaring.

"Do not call me Spaghetti in bed, are you serious? " He punctuated the complaint with a shallow thrust, which effectively dashed any witty remark Richie may have come up with from his mind but didn't do much to discourage the nickname. Still, Richie nodded.

"Sure. Yeah. No nicknames. Got it."

Eddie shook his head and sighed, but Richie could see the laughter on his face as clear as day. Richie beamed.

They continued like that, because Richie was incapable of shutting up and he liked to see what Eddie looked like laughing during sex, even if half of his comments ended in a moan or a sigh instead of a punchline. Eddie didn't seem to have any complaints, if the way he pressed biting kisses into Richie's chest and neck was anything to go by. 

The slide of Eddie's cock inside of him was nearly enough to set him off before two miracles occurred nearly simultaneously: first, Eddie hitched one of Richie's legs up further, which changed the angle deliciously and had Richie's hands scrambling for purchase against Eddie's back as he managed to hit his prostate with every few thrusts. Second, Eddie seemed to remember that Richie also had a dick, one which was weeping from lack of touch, and wrapped a hand around him. 

Richie nearly came on the spot as Eddie rubbed his thumb over the tip, shuddering hard and letting his eyes flutter shut. He would've been embarrassed by the little ah ah ah sounds that Eddie kept punching out of him had his blood not all been funneled straight from his brain into his cock. Eddie picked up a rhythm with his hand that didn't quite match the one his hips stuttered out, but that was so Eddie that it made Richie's heart ache and tears well up in his eyes— embarrassing . He squeezed hard on Eddie's shoulder.

"Fuck, Eds, I'm gonna—" Richie breathed. Eddie nodded rapidly.

"Me, too. Shit, Rich ," Eddie said, and the way he gasped Richie's name like he couldn't quite believe what was happening either but wasn't letting go for the world was what pushed Richie over the edge.

He came hard, bucking his hips up into Eddie's hand and gasping as he spilled over both of their chests. He was still coming down from it when he felt Eddie's hips speed up and then stutter as he came.

They took a moment to catch their breaths, panting hard in the aftermath. Eddie pulled out carefully and Richie tried not to cringe at the feeling. He leaned over Richie to press a soft kiss to his mouth and then stood back, which seemed cruel and unjust to Richie. He wanted nothing more than to keep the taste of Eddie's mouth on his lips forever.

"I'm gonna go get a washcloth or something. We're pretty gross," Eddie explained, stretching slowly and wincing. Richie shot him a watery grin and a thumbs up.

He'd never really been much of one to cry during sex, but he also wasn't usually having sex with Eddie Kaspbrak, which apparently meant his eyes and heart had decided to team up against him.  

Richie turned his head and muffled a sob into the pillow. Stupid Derry, making his emotions get to him. Too quickly, Eddie padded back into the room, wet towel in hand. Richie scrubbed at his face.

"Okay, let me just—" Eddie froze. Even without his glasses, he could feel the wide-eyed stare. "Richie, are you crying?"

"Um," Richie said smartly, voice warbling embarrassingly. "No?"

"Oh God, I didn't hurt you, did I? You should've told me, I would've—"

"No, no, you didn't hurt me. I'm fine. It's just I…" Love you so much. Wasn't sure how to be myself without you. Don't know what I'll do if you regret this. Never want to forget you again. "Missed you."

Eddie snorted and walked the rest of the way over to the bed. Despite that, both his hand and his voice were gentle as he wiped Richie down and said, "I missed you, too."

Rather than risking another voice crack—or worse, a sob —Richie reached out to Eddie and brought his face to his. Slowly, he pulled him down into another kiss, tender and sloppy and desperate all at once. Eddie matched it exactly, like he knew just how Richie felt, and maybe he did. He'd always been good at reading Richie like that.

Eventually, they split. Eddie lay down wordlessly next to him and traced patterns against his chest. Richie grabbed his wrist and laced their fingers together. They fell asleep like that, drifting off and into somewhere far from Derry wrapped in each other's embrace.