― open post.

[respirations]

EDDIE KASPBRAK it: chapter 2 voice strength: ★★★★★ shipping: i'm reddie trash but i'm also all about that platonic love with the other losers preferences: gen, smut, shippy, angst, au, cross-canon, slice of life. notes: for some fun starting points: some random assortment of memes and aus for days; feel free to go the other worldly route; also throw pics or random sentences at me and a kink generator because why not. hit me up for starters if you'd like. there's no crying in baseball but there is crying in my rp but let's have fun, ok. picture prompts • quote prompts • music prompts • etc

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[respirations]

There's a groggy moment of time where Eddie considers pulling the covers up and drifting off back to sleep with the sounds of raining lulling deeper into the sheets. It's only the sound of Richie's voice that gets him moving, shifting the covers off and feeling around for clothes that have been left scattered on the floor.

Pulling on his briefs, he makes a grab for Richie's shirt as well and steps out to find wherever Richie has holed himself up for the morning. He looks as well put together as Richie does once they find one another near the kitchen with Eddie yawning and running a hand through his mussed hair which does little to help it.

"Morning," he says in response and immediately reaches out to take Richie's mug from his hands. He takes a greedy sip and sighs, eyes closed but clearly pleased despite another rumble of thunder rolling over in the distance. "Sounds like shit too," he continues with a tired smile as he passes the mug back to Richie.

"Still better than a snowstorm though."

Their last trip had ended in a snowstorm that had extended their trip by two days when they had been snowed in. It hadn't been great losing power and having to hover around an old wood stove but they had managed to pass the time in their own ways that had made everything worth it. Definitely one of their better decision and certainly part of the reason they had decided on the beach instead this time. Certainly less snow even though it was just replaced by sand and now thunderstorms rolling over their heads.

[weakstomach]

"Make your own, you little turd," Richie grumps when Eddie takes his mug, but the tired smile on his face betrays the tone. The thunder is a new addition to this downpour and that makes it official for Richie; they're stuck in the house.

Taking the mug back and bringing it to his lips, Richie's eyebrows lift and he huffs a derisive sound through his nostrils as he takes a sip. "Yeah, fuckin' tell me about it," he agrees. "Although, I like to think we made good use of the time," he adds.

Richie doesn't attempt to hide the way his eyes sweep over Eddie's form now that it's acceptable behavior for him to do so. Not that what's "acceptable" has ever mattered that much to Richie, but when it comes to Eds, he hadn't really been willing to take chances. He'd been too afraid of alienating the other man and losing him again, potentially for good.

"Have I ever told you how much I like it when you wear my shirts?" he asks and Eddie ought to know by now that, no matter how much Rich loves him, he's still not to the point where he's entirely comfortable being affectionate with his words. So, predictably he follows it with, "it makes me feel all big and strong seeing your tiny body swimming in them."

[respirations]

Immediately there is a hiss of exasperation as Richie speaks, Eddie lifting a hand and poking two fingers against Richie's chest. "I'm not little or tiny," he hisses not unlike a feral cat. "I'm average and frankly a normal size unlike you, you shit."

Just as quickly though as the rise comes, he settles and shifts lightly to press in closer. Much like Richie, Eddie doesn't attempt to hide the little things that he likes now; like being close to Rich. It's the little things that might have been weird before but are utterly allowed now without someone batting an eye.

"Yeah? Was it the shitty board games, charades or sex that made 'good use' of the time," he says with a careful raise of his brow. "Never mind. Don't answer that. I already know what you'll say."

It's with a shrug that he reaches out to steal the mug again and steal the last swallow before he moves past and toward the kitchen. The rain is coming down and sheets with Eddie pausing to watch it out the nearby window. The ocean beyond is raging too, dark and stormy unlike the calm waters they had grown used since their arrival at the rental.

"Is it bad that I just want to go back to bed?"

[weakstomach]

Smirking, Richie shrugs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, little guy," he teases. It never ceases to amuse him when Eds gets himself all bent out of shape over Richie picking on his height. He can spout off about it being average all he wants, but the more defensive he gets when Richie tries to suggest that it isn't, the less Richie is inclined to believe those assertions and the more fun it becomes to continue to poke that bear.

His mouth opens to respond with another almost definitely predictable sex joke, but Eddie decides he doesn't want Richie's input, so the taller man snorts his amusement and refrains. This time, anyway.

"Hey!" he protests when Eddie takes the mug again and, even worse, finishes the last of it. "I wasn't done with that, you little shit, you better make more," he calls after him before belatedly following the other man to the kitchen.

Honestly, Richie could watch Eddie's silent contemplations forever and never get bored. There's just something about the strong line of Eddie's jaw when it's relaxed and the way those lines in his forehead smooth out when he's not perpetually stressed about something because he's just passively observing whatever's in front of him. After a moment of just standing back and watching Eddie's profile from afar, Richie moves to join him, stepping up behind him and enveloping him in his arms, pressing his chest against Eddie's back before dipping his head to press a kiss to the crook where Eddie's neck meets his shoulder.

"Why would that be bad?" he asks. "I think that sounds like a pretty legit way to spend the rest of the morning. It's too fucking early to be up and around, anyway. I don't even know how I'm still awake, if I'm honest."

[respirations]

What helps him sleep at night these days is Richie himself. Eddie doesn't bother saying something so sappy aloud and instead lets his gaze lingers on the sheets of rain washing down the windows as thunder, once again, rumbles somewhere in the distance. He doesn't notice Richie approaching until the other man is enveloping him in his arms, pressed close and dipping in to kiss at his skin.

"You're usually supposed to do as much as you can on vacation," he muses. "Make the most of it."

Eddie shifts with that and turns in Richie's embrace with an amused look on his features. He carefully lifts a hand to hold one of his biceps and breathes out a tired sound. It's with another soft sound that he leans in and presses his lips to Richie's own with something akin to a smile.

He honestly doesn't think that he'll ever get enough of this. There's just something with Richie that he didn't have with any of his girlfriends when he had been younger and certainly not with his ex-wife. Perhaps it's because Richie doesn't treat him like glass or something that needs to be handled with care, protected. He just lets him... be. He parts with another soft look and holds up the mug with a nod of his head toward the kitchen.

"Coffee first," he muses. "Then back to bed."

[weakstomach]

"We can make the most of it without having to get dumped on by Mother Nature," Richie points out with a small grin. "We don't have to go out in this shit to not be squandering it. Fuck, Eds, we've been out running around every day. I think the gods of vacation will forgive us for spending a rainy day in bed."

He's grinning, though, when Eddie turns to face him because he can hear the amusement in Eddie's voice and he's matching it with his own. In spite of the fact that he's arguing against, sort of, Eddie's point, he's mostly doing it to inject a little levity into their dreary morning.

"Coffee first," he echoes playfully, going in for another chaste kiss just because he can, "and then back to bed, like that makes any goddamned sense, but count me in."

Now Richie's the one nodding toward the kitchen. "Well go on, fuckface, you're the one who finished the last of it off," he says, grinning mischievously before swatting at Eddie's backside. "Hop to it with that coffee, Eduardo, I'm still in zombie mode over here."