( Too fucking right it was none of their business. Richie smirks against Eddie's neck and licks over the light mark he's made, so tempted to go back and make it darker. But he doesn't want Eddie to come back from work next week huffing about how his colleagues were talking about their sex life. Richie does that on stage enough as it is.
Right there. Richie takes the as his cue to keep up the pace, to keep his hips positioned just like that so he can slam himself into Eddie over and over again; Richie moans loudly, feeling himself get close-- and then there's a hand over his mouth and Richie stops his hips, looking wide-eyed at Eddie. For a moment he's confused until he hears someone pottering about just outside their stall.
Fuck. Fuck. Richie pants hard against Eddie's hand, his heart hammering in his chest. He's trying to get his breath back as quietly as he can, cramp building in his hip and his ass from their position now stilled.
Get the fuck out of here, asshole! Richie thinks, desperately wants to say.
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Right there. Richie takes the as his cue to keep up the pace, to keep his hips positioned just like that so he can slam himself into Eddie over and over again; Richie moans loudly, feeling himself get close-- and then there's a hand over his mouth and Richie stops his hips, looking wide-eyed at Eddie. For a moment he's confused until he hears someone pottering about just outside their stall.
Fuck. Fuck. Richie pants hard against Eddie's hand, his heart hammering in his chest. He's trying to get his breath back as quietly as he can, cramp building in his hip and his ass from their position now stilled.
Get the fuck out of here, asshole! Richie thinks, desperately wants to say.