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Ever since Eddie told Richie that he’s been feeling… confused, they’ve had a sort of routine.
Every Saturday night, Mrs. K has a “Ladies’ Night” with her church group, which mostly consists of them baking and cooking for the reception after mass the next day, while sipping glasses of white wine and no doubt passive-aggressively complaining about their marriages in that way that Christian women do.
“Oh, things with Harry have been tough recently. God is really testing us, it seems.”
‘God is testing me.’ That’s something he hears Eddie say. Quite a fucking lot.
Which he always finds sort of funny, not in a ‘ha-ha’ kind of way, but in a ‘why would God set you up to fail if he loves you’ kind of way. Not saying all these old ladies in their half-baked marriages getting wine tipsy on a Saturday night are going to fail. Certainly, most of them will remain in their (mostly unhappy) marriages until the day they die, Richie is sure.
But if God really is ‘testing’ Eddie, Eddie has definitely already failed that test. Over and over again. Every Saturday night while his mom is over at Monica Corcoran’s house, baking muffins for church the next day. For months.
And especially today, Richie is sure, because of what Eddie had told him on the phone before coming over.
Eddie always calls first to make sure it’s okay for him to come over, which Richie finds funny, too. Like Richie would ever say no. Like his window isn’t already unlocked all weekend, waiting for Eddie to climb through it the moment he’s alone. Just like Eddie keeps his window unlocked nearly every other night for Richie to climb through, when they mostly just hold each other in Eddie’s bed and speak with hushed voices, even though Richie is pretty sure Mrs. K is on some serious sleep medication most nights and wouldn’t wake up anyway.
Which is why he takes the risk and gives in sometimes, reaching a hand into Eddie’s shorts when he begs extra sweet. Sometimes it’s his own hand moving over Eddie’s cock until he spills into his underwear, sometimes he has two of his fingers buried inside of him while Eddie jerks himself off, so fast that Richie feels tempted to tell him to be gentler before he hurts himself, for Christ’s sake.
Definitely always has his other hand firmly held against Eddie’s mouth, though. Because Eddie is loud. And Richie fucking loves that, but he definitely doesn’t want to risk Eddie’s mom waking up.
You’re so fucking loud, baby. What if your mom wakes up and sees what you’ve been up to while she’s asleep in the next room? What if she finds out that you let the ‘dirty Tozier boy’ touch you like this?
That usually makes Eddie come into his underwear, his legs twitching against Richie’s as he squirms in his arms. And usually makes Richie come too, honestly, where he’s normally grinding against Eddie’s ass or sometimes his thighs. Feeling the little panting breaths that Eddie lets out against his fingers go harsh and ragged, and hearing the way he whines in the back of his throat when he comes. Yeah. That’s good.
But, you know, also seems like evidence that Eddie is failing that test from God. Whatever test he thinks this is.
And that’s why he’s particularly taken aback on the phone when Eddie tells him that he wants to have sex. Like, with a girl.
“Myra said she wants to. So, I don’t know. I think I should, right? Like- like just to see? If I like it? Do you think I should?”
Myra, right. Eddie’s little church girlfriend. Not my girlfriend, Eddie always insists. Which Richie really does find relieving, but just barely. They go on dates sometimes, mostly to appease Eddie’s mom. Boring dates. At least, that’s what Eddie says. She’s just so fucking boring, Richie.
“Surprised your little church girlfriend wants to do the devil’s tango, Eds. Isn’t that an unforgiveable sin in the eyes of God? Figured she was saving it for marriage.”
“Okay first of all, she isn’t my fucking girlfriend, dickwad. And yeah, I was surprised too, but she told me she wants to try it. She said she doesn’t think it counts, either. As long as I don’t, like… you know. Inside of her.”
Richie has to physically hold back a laugh at that, bringing the phone away from his ear to let a few chuckles escape through his fingers. “Right. Yeah. Totally doesn’t count.”
“So can I… can I still come over? Or is tonight not a good time?” Eddie asks, like he always fucking does, even though the answer is the same every time.
“Tonight’s a great time. Parents are out on their date night, Piper’s already asleep. Never a better time, really.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll be there in 10. Make sure your window is open.”
“It’s always open for you, Eddie my love.”
“Fuck off.”
And exactly 10 minutes later on the dot, Eddie is climbing through Richie’s window, dressed in those little fucking shorts that he knows make Richie go fucking crazy, because he told him so. One night, when he had his hand inside of them, with two of his fingers hammering into that spot inside of Eddie that makes him cry sometimes and three fingers shoved into his mouth to keep him quiet. God, baby, these fucking shorts. Make me want to fucking tear you apart. Want to make you fucking cry.
And apparently it was too big of a risk to take that night, because Eddie whined so loud when he came that his mom came shuffling into the hallway to call softly through the door, asking if Eddie was having nightmares. You know you can’t eat sweets, Eddie-bear. They give you bad dreams!
Richie almost couldn’t contain his laughter while Eddie panicked, frantically assuring her through the door that No ma, I’m okay. I’m not having nightmares. I didn’t eat any sweets, ma! No, no, you don’t have to come in, I’m fine!
“You know, you could have warned me that your neighbor has a dog now, for fucks sake. I almost pissed my pants when it started barking at me,” Eddie grumbles angrily, wiping at his wind-reddened nose as he pulls his sneakers off and tosses them in the corner of Richie’s room.
“Eh, I still would have made it work. A little pee wouldn’t stop me, Eds. Don’t worry,” Richie assures with a wink, lying back against his pillows a he watches Eddie tug his hoodie over his head, leaving him in just his long tube socks and a blue t shirt. And those little fucking shorts. Fucking brat.
“You’re disgusting, and I don’t know why I hang out with you,” Eddie crinkles his nose up in disgust but climbs onto Richie’s bed regardless, leaving a gap between them of one inch, exactly. Which Richie knows he’s expected to close, because Eddie won’t initiate. Maybe it makes God less angry if Eddie can pretend it’s all Richie’s idea.
Even though Eddie initiated it the first time all those months ago, while Richie was driving them to Portland to go visit Bev. The other losers had all piled into Bill’s Buick Le Sabre, and Eddie had automatically slid into the bench seat of Richie’s truck, like they’d all assumed from the start that Eddie would be going with Richie. Which he supposes was a fair assumption to make, since they’ve done everything together since the day they met. Richie and Eddie. Richie and Eddie. RichieandEddie.
They’d made that road trip quite a few times, but this time was extra special, because they’d all officially gotten their college acceptance letters. It was the first time Richie felt like a real adult, driving down Route 202 to Portland with Eddie in his passenger seat, nearly vibrating out of his skin with excitement.
“Do you think we’ll be able to get an on campus apartment once we’re upperclassmen? Do you think they have five person apartments? I wonder how long of a drive it is to Syracuse. I mean, it can’t be that long, right? Do you think Ben and Bev are gonna get an apartment or live on campus? I mean, they’re not gonna be allowed to room together in the dorms, not like…”
Eddie had trailed off and gone stiff, peeking at Richie out of the corner of his eye. He brought his silver cross necklace up to his mouth like he always does when he’s nervous, rubbing it between his lips in that way that makes Richie want to kiss him breathless.
“Like what, Eds?” Richie had asked with a laugh, gesturing for Eddie to go on. Eddie just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well- Well, do you want to room together? Or- Or- do you want to room with Stan instead?” Eddie asked, likely attempting to be calm, but it still came out bitchy.
“Stanley would scratch my fucking eyes out if we lived together. I’m fucking incapable of being neat. I mean, I’m sure you’ll scratch my eyes out too, but your bitching is significantly cuter and more tolerable to listen to than Stan’s, so.”
“I don’t know! I just didn’t want to assume! But I really…” he trailed off a second time, considering Richie carefully, with a look in his eyes like he was trying to build up the courage to say something. Which he was.
“I just really… like you, Richie. A lot. And I want to- I want to live together.”
“Awe shucks, Eds. Finally grew a soft spot for me after all these years?”
“I mean it, Richie. I… I really, really like you. I just… like you so much,” Eddie said, much more softly, which made Richie’s heart leap into his throat. He pulled his eyes away from the road for what was probably a dangerous amount of time, not that it mattered much, considering there wasn’t a single other car on the road. Not even Bill’s. They’d taken 295 claiming it was faster, which it wasn’t, and Richie hated the interstate anyway.
“Eds… are you- are you –”
“I don’t know.”
Richie didn’t really know what to do with that, but Jesus fucking Christ the way Eddie was staring at him with those big doe eyes, mouthing at the silver cross between his lips, fidgeting his legs like he wanted to move but was trying to hold back the urge. Just. Too much.
“I… I really like you too, Eds. Always have. Since- Since forever. Since the day I met you,” Richie settled for, unable to keep eye contact with Eddie while he said it.
He was busy watching the road and swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat at Eddie’s silence, so he wasn’t quite expecting it when Eddie lunged to his side, nearly climbing into his lap, begging into his ear “Pull over, pull over. Pull over, Rich.”
Which he did, much too quickly, but it didn’t matter. They ended up halfway inside of a bush somewhere in the middle of Bumfuck, Maine, and before Richie had even thrown the truck into park, Eddie was in his lap, kissing him, rubbing against him in the way Richie had been dreaming about for the entirety of his post-pubescent life.
And he was pretty sure, after they both came with their hands down each other’s pants in his truck, panting against each other’s mouths, that Eddie was gay.
He’s still pretty sure that Eddie is gay, but the absolutely catastrophic breakdown Eddie had about what happened a few days later made it pretty fucking clear that Eddie isn’t ready to admit that yet.
Which Richie understands, definitely. Fuck, does he understand. But Eddie’s concerns seem much more focused around his religion, based on the way he paced around Richie’s room the following weekend, ranting about sin, and “what would my church think,” and “my mom would send me to conversion camp,” and I can’t be gay. I can’t. What if hell is real, Rich?
Apparently, saying “At least we’ll be there together” wasn’t the right answer.
That was when Eddie had first used that word. Confused.
Still, that night, as with every other Saturday night since then, Eddie ended up in his bed. Ended up begging underneath him, “Please, Richie. Please, please.” Begging in that soft little whiny voice he gets when he’s desperate, begging over that cross that he holds between his soft lips before Richie rips it out of his mouth and gives him what he’s begging for.
Like right now. And Richie has officially closed the gap, like he always does. He’s initiated, like he always does. He’s dragged Eddie underneath him and pulled off both of their clothes, like he always does before pulling that fucking cross out of his mouth and licking his breath from his lungs, so tempted to wrap the little sliver chain around his fist and fucking rip it off of his neck.
And wow, is that urge much stronger tonight than it usually is. Probably because Eddie wants to have sex with a girl. Just to see if I like it, Richie. Right.
As if he isn’t always so desperate for it that he’s got his fingers tangled into Richie’s hair, pulling him in closer as he rubs himself against any part of Richie’s body that he can get to, impatiently begging for Richie to hurry up as he’s hastily pouring lube over his fingers. Just hurry up, hurry up and fuck me, Richie. Fuck me, please.
“I’m fine, I’m fine; just fuck me.”
“Baby, no. Gotta stretch you out first.”
“No! Richie!” he whines, and Richie wants to just give in, just lube up and go, but he has more self-restraint than that. Barely.
“If you want me to fuck you so bad, stop fucking whining and let me get you ready first, or else you’ll get nothing at all.”
“You sound like a dad,” Eddie pouts, still whining.
“Daddy to you,” Richie replies with a wink, gently pushing on Eddie’s chest with his clean hand. “Lie on your back.”
“Wanna ride you, please.”
“Fuck. Fuck, okay, come here,” Richie instructs, though he doesn’t wait for Eddie to move on his own before he’s grabbing Eddie’s hip, and he moves Eddie up as he lies himself down, until Eddie’s thighs are around his head and he’s got possibly his favorite view of the smaller man ever: him, staring down at Richie with those pretty eyes, while his cock is inches from his face.
As soon as he takes Eddie’s cock into his mouth, his reaction is immediate. He humps farther into Richie’s mouth and Richie’s cock fucking throbs, and he moans in his throat, and Eddie whimpers at the sensation. He almost forgets what he’s supposed to be doing for a second before he brings his hands back up to Eddie’s ass, spreading with his dry hand so that he can start rubbing his fingers against Eddie’s hole.
And then Eddie is pushing back instead, trying to get Richie’s fingers to breach him, so Richie sucks harder, and Eddie thrusts forward again, and this is why this is Richie’s favorite thing in the world. He knows that Eddie is impatient, though, so he doesn’t waste too much time before gently pushing in two of his fingers, hooking them down to rub against Eddie’s prostate, which he’s memorized the exact position of by now.
“Richie, oh my God,” Eddie moans, and it’s the sweetest sound Richie has ever heard, no matter how many times he’s heard it. He starts getting carried away, like he usually does, and he does a lot more fingering and rubbing and sucking than he does stretching, and he keeps doing it until Eddie starts gasping, tugging on Richie’s hair.
“Don’t- Don’t wanna come without your cock in me,” Eddie warns through panting breaths, and Richie remembers the task at hand (literally) and adds a third finger, reveling in the way that Eddie’s asshole twitches and flutters before sucking it inside.
“Richie, please, please, that’s enough; just fuck me,” Eddie begs after a little proper stretching, and Richie knows he should probably keep going a little longer, but it’s just so fucking hard to say no to him when he’s begging like that.
So he carefully takes his fingers out and he really is planning to take Eddie’s cock out of his mouth but he sort of really doesn’t want to yet. So he grabs Eddie’s ass and pulls him forward further down his throat, and Eddie yelps before his hands fly down to Richie’s head, tugging on his hair while he shifts his hips back, pulling his cock out of Richie’s mouth so that it slaps wetly against his cheek.
“I said that I don’t wanna come yet,” Eddie whines, and he’s pouting down at him, and Richie’s entire body feels like its vibrating.
“I’m sorry baby, I just got carried away,” he tells him honestly before he starts ushering Eddie back down into his lap, until he’s straddling Richie’s hips with his hands resting on his chest.
“You always get carried away,” Eddie pouts.
“Hey, I stopped!”
“Because I made you!”
“I’m hearing a whole lot of complaining when there’s a dick to be ridden.”
“If I didn’t want you to fuck me so bad I’d leave you here like this.”
“Wah, Richie, you suck my dick too good, I’m an ungrateful little brat,” Richie mocks, and Eddie slaps him on the chest.
“Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”
“Then take a fucking seat, hot shot,” Richie winks, opening the lube back up to squirt some into his palm.
Eddie has his pouty little bitch face on and Richie wants to keep teasing him so that he can look at it forever, but he doesn’t want to push it too far and make Eddie actually annoyed with him. So he reaches behind him and takes his own cock in his hand, spreading the lube over his shaft before bringing it to rest against Eddie’s ass, and Eddie pushes back against it until the head of Richie’s cock is pressing up against his hole.
Eddie takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, pressing down as he lets it out slowly. Richie fucking loves when Eddie rides him for this exact reason; the little furrow he gets in his brow while he’s focusing on seating himself on Richie’s cock is probably Richie’s favorite face that Eddie makes during sex. The sight of it combined with the gradual pressing heat of Eddie’s body while he moves down makes Richie moan, and Eddie’s eyes flutter open, looking into his own as he shoves down the rest of the way, letting out a gasping moan once he’s fully seated in Richie’s lap.
His legs are already shaking, and Richie feels that overwhelming urge he does sometimes to fuck Eddie until he’s delirious, but Eddie is in control, for now, so he resists it.
“Eddie, baby, you’re so fucking perfect.”
“You’re just saying that because I can take you all at once now,” Eddie jokes, his voice breathy and high while he adjusts his legs, getting better leverage on the bed.
“No, you’re always perfect. All the time, always.”
“Shut up, Rich,” Eddie replies, but he’s smiling and blushing and Richie’s heart is trying to climb out of his chest to get closer to him.
He rests his hands on Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie rolls his hips, his eyes fluttering closed again while he does it. He lets out another breathy little moan, and Richie so badly wants to hear it again, so he grabs Eddie’s hips, pressing him down further and grinding him harder down onto his cock.
“Richie, fuck, oh my God,” he groans, picking his hips up slightly before pressing down again, and the friction of it has Richie moaning too.
“Come on baby, make yourself feel good, let me watch you feel good.”
Eddie nods quickly, and that seems to be all the prompting he needs, because he picks his hips up until he’s nearly lifted himself off of Richie’s cock before pressing back down, and he does it again, and again, and again, until he’s practically slamming his ass into Richie’s lap and whining in the back of his throat, his fingernails scratching over Richie’s chest as he attempts to brace himself.
Richie is enraptured watching him, mesmerized by the sight of his cock plunging in and out of Eddie’s body, while Eddie’s cock slaps against his belly with each drop of his hips. Though his eyes keep getting distracted by the glinting light shining off of the chain around his neck, where the little silver cross is bouncing against his tanned chest with every thrust.
“So deep, so deep; feel so full,” Eddie gasps out, and he brings a hand up to his belly, where Richie imagines his cock might be inside of him. A dizzying wave of pleasure shoots through him and he tightens his grip on Eddie’s hips, encouraging him to fuck himself harder.
“Yeah? You like feeling me so deep inside of you, baby? You like the way my cock fills you up?”
“I love it Richie, I love it, love it, love your cock,” Eddie is babbling, apparently fucking himself delirious, because his eyes can’t seem to focus and his mouth is hanging open, and Richie wants to burn this moment into his memory forever.
“Touch your pretty cock for me, baby.”
Eddie shakes his head, and his hair is so disheveled that it’s falling onto his forehead.
“No, no, I’ll come too fast.”
“Then you’ll have to have some self-control, won’t you?”
“Richie,” Eddie whines desperately, and the sound of it ignites that piece of him again, that wants to break Eddie down to his basest parts and watch him squirm. Richie isn’t sure where it’s coming from so strongly right now, but it punches through him aggressively enough that he feels himself snap into domspace, so suddenly that it makes him lightheaded.
“Good boys do what they’re told, Eddie. Don’t you want to be good for me?”
Eddie hesitates for a fraction of a second before bringing his hand to his cock, squeezing the shaft and sending a bead of precum rolling down the head. “Y-yes Daddy, I’ll be good.”
“Good boy, baby. Put on a good show for me, okay kitten?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
And fuck, does he deliver. He picks the pace back up, this time also working over his cock with the same rhythm, with moderate but firm strokes. He has that starry, overwhelmed look on his face that Richie adores, and Richie presses his hips up into Eddie’s when he presses back down, making him cry out almost too loud.
“Be quiet. If you can’t control yourself, we’ll have to stop, Eddie.”
“No, no; please, I’m sorry,” Eddie begs, and starts going faster, and Richie feels his toes curl into the bedsheets.
“Always so desperate. Makes me want to fucking tie you down so you can only have what I give you, since you’re such a greedy little slut. Maybe I should; maybe I should gag you too, since you can’t seem to keep those slutty moans down.”
“I just- I just-”
“What do you think, kitten? I think I should go grab some rope.”
“No!”
Richie’s hand flies from Eddie’s hip up to the back of his head, grabbing onto the hair there and craning his head back firmly.
“Oh, baby. But you’re mine, aren’t you? My little kitten, my little toy to play with however I want.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy. You can do whatever you want to me,” Eddie pleads, but it comes out as a slur of sounds more than anything, and his rhythm is getting sloppier, and Richie can tell he’s already close to coming.
“I don’t need your permission, kitten. You’ll do whatever I tell you to, because you’re a fucking whore and you’d do anything to have my cock in your ass,” Richie growls into his ear, and Eddie lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob, and his arms and chest break out in goosebumps that Richie wants to fucking bite and lick until Eddie is covered in big, flashing signs that say “Property of Richie Tozier.”
And it’s probably a dangerous thought to have, but Richie can’t help thinking that Eddie would never feel like this with his little fucking church girlfriend. She could never make him feel like this. And he almost keeps it to himself. Almost.
Until Eddie says in his breathless little voice, “I want you all the time, always want to feel like this, always want you.”
And at this point, Richie doesn’t even really have control over his mouth anymore, and he certainly doesn’t care anymore if it’s a risky thing to say, and he can’t stop fucking staring at that little fucking cross around Eddie’s neck.
“Oh yeah? What happened to wanting to fuck your little church girlfriend, baby? I wonder what she’d think if she knew how much you like taking it up the ass, hmm? I wonder what your mommy would think if she knew you were here right now, sitting on my cock and fucking yourself so deep that you’ll still feel it when you’re sitting next to her in church tomorrow. What would they think if they knew that you’re on your knees for me more than you’ve ever been for God?”
The hand that Eddie was stroking himself with moves down to squeeze around the base of his cock, and his other hand flies up to cover his mouth as he lets out another near-cry, muffling the sound behind his own fingers.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Richie reprimands, and Eddie shakes his head.
“Can’t, can’t, need to come.”
“Ask me nicely, kitten.”
“Please, please daddy, wanna come for you, please, please, I can’t anymore,” Eddie is begging, babbling, and his eyes are already shiny with unshed tears. Richie would probably give in if he weren’t feeling particularly uncharitable tonight.
“No, and if you stop again without my permission, I’m going to turn your fucking ass red after this, too.”
“Gonna come if I do,” Eddie sobs brokenly, and Richie’s insides are on fire at the sound of it.
“Figure it out, kitten.”
Eddie whines pathetically but brings his hand back up to his cock and starts shifting his hips down again, and he’s being so good, so obedient, and Richie’s whole chest swells with something like pride or affection watching him, clearly so desperate to come but still doing what he’s told. God, just… so fucking beautiful.
He knows it won’t last for long, though, because Eddie is breathing so erratically and moving so unevenly that Richie knows he’s going to come soon anyway, and Richie just really wants him to break first.
“If it’s so difficult for you, next time I won’t let you touch your cock at all, and you’ll make yourself come just on my cock, since all you’ve done is bitch tonight. How’s that sound, baby?”
Eddie pauses again and squeezes his eyes shut, and Richie reaches a hand back to spank his ass cheek in warning. “You’re not being a good listener tonight, sweetheart.”
Eddie lets out another sob before reluctantly moving his hand and his hips again, and when he opens his eyes back up, there are tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Daddy, please, I can’t- I can’t anymore, please!”
And he just looks so beautiful like that, doing whatever Richie tells him to, so desperate to come that he’s crying, that Richie finally, finally decides to have mercy on him.
He gathers Eddie in his arms and lifts him by his ass before leaning forward and lying them down, pressing Eddie’s back into the mattress.
“Don’t cry, kitten; Daddy will give you what you need,” he whispers, kissing across Eddie’s cheeks and his nose before pressing their lips together and lifting Eddie’s knees, pressing them forward as he starts thrusting into him, causing Eddie to let out another choked sob.
“Please, please,” he’s begging through his tears, with his hand still on his cock so obediently, and Richie takes a mental snapshot before working his hips faster, until his balls are slapping against Eddie’s ass and Eddie’s hair is nearly bouncing into his eyes.
“Come for me, baby, let me see you,” Richie finally whispers gently, and Eddie cries out in relief, his hand a blur over his cock for a moment before his whole body tenses and he moans low in his throat, biting down on his lip as he comes so hard that it splashes up to his chest, splattering over the silver cross where it’s nestled against his collarbone.
And Richie finally realizes how close he is to coming too, so he pulls Eddie down further underneath him before fucking into him faster, causing Eddie to let out little Ah, ah, ahs with each thrust.
“Such a good boy, baby. So good for me, so pretty, take my cock so well, don’t you? Fuck, I’m gonna come, gonna come so deep in you you’ll be leaking tomorrow, gonna- fuck, fuck,” Richie doesn’t get to finish his thought because he’s gasping, still pushing into Eddie as he comes, getting as deep as he can, fucking it into him until his cock starts to go soft and Eddie is whimpering like he does when he’s too sensitive.
He gently pulls out before gathering Eddie up in his arms, kissing him on the forehead and cuddling him into his chest.
“How are you doing, baby?”
“Good. I’m okay, I didn’t expect that, though.”
“Sorry. I think I just needed to get it out of my system.”
“No, no. Don’t be sorry, I’m not complaining. I just feel so tired now,” Eddie yawns, snuggling in closer to Richie’s chest.
“Are you gonna go home already?” Richie asks, and he’s sort of embarrassed by how disappointed his voice sounds in his own ears.
“Nah, I kinda want to cuddle for a while. Unless you wanna go to bed, obviously, then we totally-”
“I will gladly keep you up too late and make you late for church tomorrow, Eds.”
“I don’t even want to fucking go,” Eddie grumbles, and Richie is shocked into silence for a moment.
“Your mom will freak.”
“Yeah, well, imagine how badly she’d freak if she knew that I’ll be sitting next to her in church with your come leaking out of my ass,” Eddie laughs, and Richie sputters, because Eddie never jokes about this.
“Yeah, um, sorry if that was all, like, too much. It just sort of came out,” Richie apologizes, feeling guilty for how close to home he probably hit. Probably went too far with the church stuff. He honestly hadn’t realized how much it’s been bothering him until tonight.
“Don’t be, it would have made me come if you didn’t stop me, so,” Eddie shrugs, and Richie is sort of blown away by how nonchalant Eddie is being about all of this.
“Are you, like... okay? I mean… this is very unlike you. And if you’re a doppelganger, I’m gonna have to break the news to the real Eds that I found a better lay than him so…”
Eddie rolls his eyes, tucking himself further into Richie’s chest.
“I guess I just- just realized something today. A couple things, actually.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Like… like that I don’t think I want to have sex with Myra. Because I don’t think I want to have sex with a girl. Because I think… I think I’m gay,” Eddie admits, then takes a shaky breath before continuing. “And I also realized, somewhere in the fuzzy recesses of my mind while your cock was inside of me, that I sort of want to do this forever. Like. For a long time, at least, if that’s what you want,” Eddie adds nervously, and Richie is sure Eddie can hear how rapid his heartbeat is with his head pressed into Richie’s chest.
And yet, he still makes a fucking joke, because he’s fucking panicking and he can’t ever just be a fucking adult. “Forever? Eddie, I’m gonna need breaks sometimes. I’ll fucking dehydrate if you don’t let me take water breaks, at least.”
Eddie leans up and looks down at him very seriously, and Richie feels his breath stick in his throat.
“Rich.”
And yeah, okay, that’s fair. That’s fair.
“That is- That is what I want. It is. I want that. I want you, forever,” Richie tells him softly, and Eddie beams, giggling brightly before he presses his head into the crook of Richie’s neck and shoulder, gently mouthing at his collarbones in a way that has Richie’s breaths quickening.
“Well, good. You’re stuck living with me for a year, at least. Let’s see if you still feel the same way after that.”
“Please, I’ve wanted to marry you since I was ten,” Richie blurts out before thinking, and Eddie goes stiff, and Richie wants to fucking punch himself in the face for ruining what was a nice moment that he should have been extremely grateful for. Fucking moron.
“But… but we can’t. We can’t get married.”
“Sure can’t. Probably want to thank your church folks for that one. And our boy Billy Clinton, of course.”
Eddie is quiet after that, and Richie really fucking hates that he can never keep his fucking mouth shut. It’s a curse.
“Well… well. I’ve been thinking. And I decided that I don’t think I want to go to church anymore once we go to school. I mean, at least, not a church like… like mine. If I can find a church that’s more… you know. Nicer. To people like us. Then I’d like that. But I don’t want to go to a church like this one anymore,” Eddie admits softly, and Richie can tell that he’s twirling his cross around in his fingers based on how the movement is shaking his chest.
“I think… I think that’s a good idea, Eds. I’ll help you, if you want. If you want to search around for a more accepting church to go to near campus.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course, babe.”
“Do you think there will be one?”
“I mean, we’ll be in New York City. If there’s gonna be a church that allows queers, I feel like that’s the place.”
Eddie lets out a laugh at that and nods in agreement, settling himself back into Richie’s body. And they’re getting dangerously comfortable, Richie knows. Eddie can’t sleep here, or else he’ll miss church, and Mrs. K will absolutely flip her lid. He knows he should get up and wake Eddie up too, so that he can walk him home.
But he’s just so fucking tired, and Eddie feels so good pressed against him. And he really doesn’t want to ruin this moment, so he doesn’t. He figures Eddie will wake up in time on his own, probably.
Except Eddie apparently isn’t asleep, and Richie nearly jumps out of his skin when his soft voice mumbles against the skin of Richie’s throat, and he suddenly feels awake all over again.
“Richie?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend? I mean, will you? Be my- my boyfriend?”
Crying is definitely not the reaction Richie thought he would have in this situation, though he also never thought he’d be in this situation at all, so he’s extra shocked when tears immediately start prickling at his eyes. He sniffles in a breath and Eddie leans up to look at him in alarm, and Richie takes the opportunity to bring the palms of his hands up to his eyes, wiping away the tears there.
“Rich, are you crying?” Eddie asks frantically, and Richie is sure Eddie thinks he’s upset, and that snaps him out of it.
“No- I mean, yes, but not because I’m upset or anything, or- I just- I’m just happy. Sorry. I’m just really happy, didn’t mean to freak you out. Or be dramatic.”
Eddie smiles softly at him and reaches a hand into Richie’s hair, gently scratching his fingernails against his scalp. Richie leans into the touch with a moan, and he wants to cry again, but he isn’t going to. Because this is the best day of his fucking life.
“So… so is that a yes?”
“To what?”
“Being my boyfriend.”
“You’re gonna make me cry again.”
“I just want an answer!”
“Yes, Eddie. I will be your boyfriend. And eventually your husband, and then your widower when you inevitably die from a heart attack before me from all the fucking caffeine you drink,” Richie jokes softly, but he’s turned over to look into Eddie’s eyes now, and he’s sure the look of adoration that he can see in his big brown ones are reflected in his own.
“You’re one to fucking talk, wheezy. Think I heard the tar rattling around in your lungs earlier.”
And wow, wow. They get to do this forever, if they want to. And suddenly everything else Richie was mad about earlier feels so fucking stupid. So trivial. Because Eddie isn’t ashamed of him. Eddie wants to be with him. And in a few short months, once they’re away from this fucking hellhole town, they’ll get to fucking do that. They’ll get to do that for as long as they want to. And maybe they can’t get married any time soon, but someday. Someday they’ll get married, with white flowers and black tuxes and all of their friends gathered around them. In a church with pretty stained glass windows, like Eddie once told him he’s always wanted.
“I love you,” Richie breathes, and it feels so much easier than he thought it would. So much easier than he convinced himself it would be for his entire life.
“I love you too,” Eddie’s reply comes just as easily, and the sound of it melts in Richie’s ears, nestling itself all warm and sticky on the inside of his brain.
They spend the rest of the night like that, staring at each other, talking softly and laughing and kissing and being together, and it’s all the same things they’ve done before, but different now. So much different. And by the time the sun rises, Eddie is groaning, and Richie knows he needs to go. So he watches as Eddie tucks himself gracefully back into his clothes against the gentle morning light, and he doesn’t feel sick like he usually does when he watches Eddie climb back out of his window, with a halo of sunlight catching in his soft brown curls.
Maybe it’s because it doesn’t feel like it might be the last time he ever gets to be with Eddie like this, like Richie has feared every other time he’s watched Eddie climb out of that window. Maybe it’s because this feels like a beginning, and not an end.
Or maybe it’s because this time, before leaving, Eddie climbed on top of him to give him a goodbye kiss, and softly whispered “See you later, boyfriend,” into Richie’s ear.