Chapter Text
Okay, sure. Maybe Eddie was going a little crazy. It's just, he's been living with Richie for six months now, and nothing has happened. He was sure that after all the clown shit was over that Richie would tell him how he felt. It's not a coincidence that Eddie's first conscious words after being turned into a clown kebab were, "I'm gay." But the moment came and passed and nothing happened. And then Eddie moved out to L.A. to live with Richie, and nothing happened. And then Richie came out as gay, and still nothing happened.
And yeah, maybe Eddie should just suck it up and tell him himself, but as sure as he is that Richie might feel the same way, he's even more sure that Richie would rather work a desk job at a travel insurance company than hold his hand.
So now it's been six months, and no one's said anything, and Eddie's resigned to living with the misery and horniness and self-doubt forever. That makes it sound worse than it is - Eddie loves living with Richie. He really does! Their lives just fit. Richie makes him laugh, and takes care of him, and is surprisingly competent for a man child. And he's only slightly losing his mind at how broad Richie is, or how he looks when he gets out of the shower and is just wearing a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, or, god forbid, how he looks when he's wearing sweatpants.
But then one day Eddie's sounding like an idiot on the phone with Bev because he's doing his weekly complaining about Richie being hot and irresistible and impossible not to love, and then Bev stops him.
"Okay, babe, you know you I love you, but you have got to chill out. I promise that telling Richie how you feel is not going to end the world."
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll just go up to him and say, 'Hey, Rich! I know we live together and are platonic best friends but actually I want you to blow my back out and also maybe take me out on a date!' That sounds like a totally reasonable plan that could not backfire in any possible way."
He can hear Bev's eye roll through the phone. "You suck. If you're not going to tell him, then why don't you just find a way to show him?"
"Yeah, next time he's sitting on the couch I'll just start sucking his dick and seeing if he gets the hint."
"I actually hate you and don't care what happens anymore. I'm going to go hang out with Ben and have an adult relationship where both of us talk about our feelings openly with each other because we are intelligent, sentient human beings." Eddie manages to squeeze in a goodbye before Bev hangs up.
Later that night, when he's watching Richie cook dinner, he thinks about what Bev said again. He watches Richie shake the vegetables he's cooking in the pan and it makes his mouth water (and not because the vegetables look so good). Objectively, the sight of someone shaking a pan of vegetables should not turn him on so much, but virtually anything Richie does has the ability to turn Eddie on at this point. And so, right there in the kitchen, he resolves to do something. He doesn't know what yet, but he's got to do something.
Eddie doesn't really think about his decision for the rest of the week. Work picks up and he doesn't have time to actively thirst over Richie and figure out how to get him in bed, so he goes with what's most familiar and just yearns.
Then it's the weekend and he's running his Saturday errands before Richie's even up, so he's still not really thinking about it. He's at Lululemon because even though he hates the fact that he is the kind of person to walk into a Lululemon while living in L.A. before going to fucking Trader Joe's with his goddamn reusable shopping bags, that's what his life is.
He just needs some new workout clothes since it's getting closer to summer and he doesn't have anything airy enough for the California heat. He's staring at the price tag on some ridiculously short shorts, and he pauses. Eddie knows he's in good shape, and that his ass would look fucking great in these shorts; even if Richie isn't into Eddie, he's still gay . So he finds his size and picks two different colors to buy. On his way to the checkout counter, he grabs a pair of running leggings before heading to pay.
He doesn't really know how he's going to get Richie to look at him in the shorts, because he's noticed how Richie tries to avert his gaze anytime Eddie comes back from running. He wishes he wouldn't. He wishes Richie would see him in his sweaty running clothes and tear them off and make Eddie see stars.
But then he's off to Trader Joe's, so he has to stop thinking about seducing Richie long enough to do some effective grocery shopping.
When he gets home from his errands, Richie is on the couch with his laptop.
"Spaghetti! How were your suburban housewife errands this morning?"
"Shut up, dickhead. They were good. I got a new kind of salsa that I think you'll like. Come help me put away the groceries or I'm taking it back."
Richie springs up from the couch and joins Eddie in the kitchen, and Eddie does a double take. Richie looks good . And he's not even trying, that asshole. He's just wearing a threadbare T-shirt with holes in it and an old pair of sweats with paint stains on them, but Eddie wants to climb him like a goddamn tree. He swallows down his horny thoughts and deflects, because that's what he does best.
"Do you ever buy new clothes, or does everything you own look like you stole it from the dump?"
"Oh, fuck you! It's the weekend and I like to be comfortable. Am I not sexy enough in my holey shirt and stained sweats, Eds?"
Richie turns to Eddie expectantly, and Eddie thinks You actually are and that's the problem .
But he says, "I don't think anyone in this universe has ever referred to you as sexy."
"You wound me, Eds. I hope you know a cardiologist because my heart is broken and needs healing."
"Oh my god, shut up. You are so unbearable."
They're quiet for a moment, maneuvering around each other and putting away the groceries, but then Eddie's mouth randomly decides to speak and says, "I bought new running shorts today and I'm not sure if they're too short. If I tried them on, would you be honest?"
Eddie doesn't know where it came from or why he said it, but Richie hums affirmatively, so he retreats to his room to change while Richie puts up the last of the frozen food. Before leaving his room, Eddie catches a glance of himself in the mirror. He was right, his ass does look fucking great in these shorts. These shorts that are definitely too short for Eddie Kaspbrak, a 40 year old divorcee, to wear in public. But the thing is, he knows he didn't really care about if he would wear them outside. It's all about wearing them inside .
Slipping back into the kitchen, he doesn't miss the sharp inhale from Richie's mouth. Eddie stands there, holding his arms out and asking, "So? Too short?" He punctuates it by turning around and looking over his shoulder at Richie. He could almost swear that Richie's pupils were blown, but he's sure he's seeing things.
Richie clears his throat before saying, "Uh, they, uh, they look great, Eds. I just remembered I have to go do something in - in my room, so I'll be back out later. Bye!"
And then Richie is shutting the door to his room and Eddie is standing in the kitchen wearing the sluttiest shorts he owns and wondering why Richie just left .
Eddie knows his plan is absolutely batshit insane. But he's also desperate and he's sitting here watching through the glass sliding doors while Richie dicks around as he cleans the pool outside, and he thinks back to every porno ever where some guy is cleaning the pool and some housewife seduces him, and then before he can stop himself, he's changing into his bathing suit.
He chooses his Tommy Hilfiger bottoms because they're pretty short and he's like 87% sure he once saw Richie's eyes linger when he was wearing them before. Looking in the mirror, Eddie takes a second to make sure his ass looks good, because at this point he's past pretending he's not trying to get Richie to look there. He might as well own up to the fact that he's being a bit of a whore.
It's not his fault, though! Richie is out there cleaning the pool with his broad fucking shoulders and massive hands and Eddie just wants to lick every inch of his body. And yeah, he also wants to do dumb domestic shit like hold his hand and cook him breakfast in bed or whatever, but it's easier to focus on being horny. If he does that, he doesn't have to acknowledge his pathetically deep feelings for his best friend slash roommate.
Eddie steels himself one last time before leaving his room. On his way out, he grabs a bottle of sunscreen because he's not a monster with no regard for his skin health.
When he gets outside, Richie is wading waist deep in the pool. He looks like he's focusing on something, but Eddie doesn't know anything about keeping up with the pool, so he doesn't really know what exactly Richie would be focusing on. Regardless, Eddie slides open the glass door and steps out into the heat. Hearing him step outside, Richie turns around and grins.
"Eddie Spaghetti! Long time no see!"
"What the fuck are you talking about? We saw each other like forty minutes ago."
"Yeah, and those forty minutes without you have been torture ," Richie exaggerates. Eddie rolls his eyes and sits down on one of the poolside chairs to start applying his sunscreen. He's trying very hard to focus on rubbing the lotion into his skin and not on Richie's back muscles, but it's not easy; they're out in the open, obscenely tempting and irresistible. The nerve of this guy.
But looking at Richie's back gives Eddie an idea.
"Hey, Richie, can you help me with something?"
Richie looks up at him and hums affirmatively, so Eddie continues. "Could you help me get my back? I don't want to burn but I can't really reach around like that since I was stabbed by an alien clown and all."
Eddie knows it's unfair of him to play that card. He knows that Richie would have probably agreed to do it even without the guilt factor that Eddie is inconsiderately using. But he also knows he wasn't willing to risk him saying no, so he decides it was necessary.
Richie wastes no time wading out of the pool and walking over to Eddie, who is already holding out the sunblock. Richie grabs it from his hand, and Eddie lays down so that Richie can have access to his back. He probably could have stayed sitting up and just turned around, but then Richie wouldn't be able to see his ass, and that's most of the reason he's out here.
Richie clears his throat as he pops open the sunblock, and if Eddie really hated himself, he would let himself imagine that Richie was popping open some lube. But he's not that much of a masochist, so for now he doesn't let his mind stray there.
When Richie's hands make first contact with his skin, Eddie's entire body lights up like a match. Richie starts rubbing the lotion into his skin, and Eddie bites back a moan. Sure, he's trying to be obvious, but not that obvious.
It's blissful, laying there with Richie's hands all over his body. It's easy to get lost in the feeling of the rough skin of Richie's hands rubbing over his muscles. Richie drags his hands down Eddie's spine and, despite the heat, Eddie gets goosebumps. He knows Richie's almost done, but he's not ready to give this up, so he takes another desperate step.
"Could you get just under the waistband of my shorts in the back? Just in case they ride down once they get wet. And also maybe just under the hem, too, for the same reason." God, he really is a shameless whore.
He hears Richie swallow before he answers, saying, "Uh, yeah, of course. Anything for my spaghetti."
And then Richie's hands dip just below the waistband of Eddie's shorts, and it's an intoxicating feeling that he wants to feel again and again and again. He almost wishes Richie would let his hands wander a little further and outright just grab his ass, but he knows Richie would never do that. He's too polite.
When Richie's hands ghost under the hem of Eddie's shorts, Eddie sucks in a sharp breath of air. His hands are so close to where Eddie wants them. But Richie just slathers some sunscreen on and stops.
Eddie misses Richie's touch the second it leaves his skin.
"I think you're all set dude," Richie says, and before Eddie can even sit all the way up, Richie's already wading back into the pool.
"Thanks, man," Eddie says, and he hopes his arousal isn't written all over his face. Or maybe he hopes it is written all over his face. He doesn't really know what he's doing at this point.
They've barely settled into the silence when Richie asks, "You gonna come swim or just sit there like a little bitch boy?"
Eddie wastes no time in flicking Richie off, but he gets up from his chair and makes his way to the pool anyway. He sits on the edge, dangling his feet in the water, and Richie comes closer to him. He stops just short of stepping in between Eddie's legs, and all of a sudden Eddie really wants to kiss him. Well, maybe not all of a sudden, because he pretty much always wants to kiss him. But it's stronger right now, and he has to actively fight to stop himself from reaching out for Richie's shoulders.
Richie has a little bit of scruff lining his jaw, and that's just making things worse for Eddie. He wants to feel that along his skin, how it would be scratchy and sharp in the best way. Eddie feels a little pathetic, having such a huge crush on his best friend like this. It feels like he's a middle schooler. Of course, when he actually was in middle school, he was busy pretending that these feelings didn't mean anything and shoving them down. So, maybe it's his turn to have his middle school crush. He never let himself have it before.
"Whatcha thinkin' about, Eds?" Richie asks, shaking Eddie from his thoughts.
Kissing you .
"Oh, just work stuff," Eddie lies. Richie sighs and says, "Dude, it's Sunday. You don't have to think about work stuff until tomorrow, so cut it out. Let's watch a movie tonight, order some food in. Get you out of that little spaghetti head of yours for a minute."
"Okay, yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Yeah."
"Now are you gonna come swim with me or not?" Richie asks.
"I don't want to get wet."
"But you already are," Richie answers so casually. Eddie should have seen what was coming next, because it's textbook Richie, but his brain is cloudy so he simply doesn't.
"No I'm not-" Eddie can't even finish his sentence before Richie is sliding his arm across the surface of the water and bringing a huge wave splashing against Eddie's skin.
"Oh, fuck you, man!" Eddie says, but there's not a whole lot of heat behind it.
"Guess you gotta get all the way in now!" Richie laughs as he leans back to float on his back. Eddie watches him for a moment and then decides to suck it up and just swim. He slides into the water, moving silently towards where Richie is floating on his back. When he's close enough, he sends a sizable splash Richie's way, soaking his upper chest and face. Richie sputters before righting himself, and Eddie can see the water droplets lining his glasses from Eddie's retaliation.
Of course, Richie splashes him back, and before long they've gotten themselves into a full on splash war. It's fun, goofing off with Richie in the pool like they're kids. It feels so natural. They're hurling water and insults at each other at rapid speed, and Eddie's never been so content.
Eventually, they both get tired of their pruning skin and decide to head inside. Eddie heads off to shower, and Richie just goes to change clothes because he's a heathen with no hygiene.
As Eddie stands in the bathroom peeling his clothes off, he thinks back to the afternoon and to yesterday. He's given Richie two relatively obvious situations, and he's done nothing. The rational part of Eddie's brain is telling him to give it up, that Richie's not interested in him that way. But the horny part is telling him to keep going, to get more bold, to make it perfectly clear what he wants.
Stepping under the water, Eddie lets the warm stream drip down his chest. He thinks back to how good Richie looked, just standing outside with his shoulders out. And how his hands felt against Eddie's skin, how close they were to where Eddie really wanted them. The thought alone is enough to get him hard, so he wraps his fist around his cock and starts stroking. It doesn't take him long to finish, not with the memory of Richie's hands on his body.
He shifts his focus to actually washing himself once he finishes, mindlessly rubbing his body wash into his skin. He briefly wishes Richie was here to rub this in too, like he did with the sunscreen, but he literally just came, so he can't really focus on that right now. He forces his brain to think of something else, anything else.
It's not long before he cuts off the water, wrapping his towel around his waist and slipping away into his room. Eddie absentmindedly grabs a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt (that just so happens to be Richie's), and after thinking for a moment, decides to forgo his boxers. His shorts are basically sweatpants, just in short form, so without the underwear, there won't be much left to the imagination.
Maybe Richie will see him, realize he's sitting right next to Eddie without any underwear, and just. Rail him. Easy access, after all. That probably won't happen, but a man can dream.
He runs his towel through his hair one last time before stepping back out into the hall, making a brief pit stop in the bathroom to hang his towel up before heading to the living room. Richie's scrolling on his phone, and when Eddie walks in, he starts speaking without looking up.
"So, I was thinking we could get Thai? That place you-" Richie looks up and stops talking for a moment. It feels like his eyes are burning into Eddie's skin. Maybe it's finally working.
But then, as if nothing happened at all, Richie continues. "Uh, that place you like is on Uber Eats and all, so we could place an order and just have them deliver it."
Eddie plops down on the couch, and maybe he's a tiny bit closer to Richie than he needs to be. He leans into Richie, looking over at his phone screen, and hums affirmatively.
"Yeah, that sounds good with me. You know what I like so you can just go ahead and order. What movie were you in the mood for?"
"Oh, I've got the perfect one. You know how you revealed the other day that you're like, so fucking weird and haven't seen The Matrix ? Well, it's on HBO Max right now. Let's get some young Keanu Reeves going up in here." Richie has a ridiculous grin on his face, so Eddie decides to just go with it.
"Okay, fine, whatever. Sounds good to me. I'm gonna go grab a glass of water. Do you want a drink?"
"Yeah, water's fine," Richie answers, already redirecting his attention to his phone screen to order food. By the time Eddie gets back, two glasses of water in hand, Richie has already placed the order and queued up The Matrix on the TV.
"Alright, Spaghetti, get ready. Ha, that rhymes! It's hard work being hilarious all the time. Anyway, get ready for a masterpiece. The Matrix walks the line of being completely brilliant and completely dumb as shit so flawlessly."
Richie starts the movie, and before long, Eddie is lost in the world of The Matrix . He has to admit, Richie was right. It really does walk the line of greatness and absolute shit without actually crossing over and becoming a bad movie.
When the food arrives, Richie gets up without pausing the movie and goes to grab the food from the front door. He gets back and distributes the food, and they eat in semi-silence while watching. Of course, they can never be completely silent while watching a movie. They both have very many things to say, mainly Eddie criticizing things, and Richie providing insanely specific facts about the movie or giving the characters their own internal monologues.
"If I was Lawrence Fishburne, I would refuse to do any movies without those epic glasses," Richie says in between bites of his shrimp Pad Thai. Eddie barks a laugh, saying, "You would look so fucking stupid in those. I would like to see it."
"Honestly, I could be Neo but with a dad bod. I've got the whole unexpectedly handsome thing going for me already. Maybe they'll replace Keanu Reeves with me in the new one they're making."
"Wait, they're making another one? Aren't there already three?"
"Yeah, but we're in the age of reboots, baby. Keanu Reeves and Carrie-Anne Moss are alive and well, so it's only common sense that they make a new one."
"Well, you better get your agent working on that. If you're not in the next one, I'm going to be massively disappointed," Eddie laughs out.
"I could always be Keanu's stunt double. I mean, there are exactly zero differences between our physiques."
"You're on a first name basis with Keanu Reeves now?"
"Of course! We're two extremely sexy, extremely successful Hollywood actors. We're practically the best of friends. The only person more important to me than Keanu is you, Eds."
Eddie's heart flutters at that. It was hidden in a joke, but it was still there. He sounded sincere. At least he gets Richie like this. While he'd much rather have Richie bending him over the arm of the couch and pounding him into next week, he supposes this is good, too.
"Oh, and your mom," Richie adds, and Eddie flicks him off. "Fuck you! That was almost a nice thing for you to say, you had to go ruin it with your dumbass jokes that aren't even funny."
"You'd want nothing less, baby."
Baby. Oh.
"Oh, shut up. This part is really good. Mr. Reeves kills it with the fight choreo here," Richie says excitedly, leaning towards the screen and giving Eddie a perfect view of his profile. Eddie has to tear his eyes away from Richie's jawline to watch the movie. He's so engrossed in the fight scene that he doesn't notice Richie sneaking his chopsticks into his bowl of chicken Pad Thai, but when he does, he groans.
"Richie! Stop stealing my food! You know I would let you have a bite if you just asked ."
"But this is way more fun," Richie says, going back in for more. Before he can actually get some noodles, Eddie grabs his chopsticks and throws them over the arm of the couch in retaliation.
"Hey! That wasn't very nice!" Richie complains, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler.
"Oh, suck it up. You did this to yourself, buddy."
"I absolutely did not! Since you were so mean, I think you should go retrieve my chopsticks for me."
Eddie rolls his eyes and is about to say no when an idea pops into his head. Albeit, it's a stupid idea, but it's an idea nonetheless.
"Fine, idiot," Eddie snaps back, before leaning over the arm of the couch. His ass is fully in the air as he pitches himself forward to grab the chopsticks off the floor. He takes a little longer than he needs to, wiggling his hips a little for "balance," before popping back up. When he turns around, Richie's cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wide.
"Your chopsticks, asshole."
Richie shakes his head and blinks, almost like a cartoon, before reaching out and grabbing the chopsticks from Eddie's hands. His eyes are a little glazed over, and Eddie thinks for a second that maybe he's going to make a move.
But then the moment ends when Richie sticks his chopsticks in his mouth like a walrus.
"Fank you, Eddie," Richie struggles to say.
"That's disgusting. Those were just on the floor. At least rinse them off before using them."
"It just adds to the flavor." Richie waggles his eyebrows when Eddie scrunches his face up.
And then they're both back to watching the movie, and another opportunity has come and gone. Eddie doesn't know how much more obvious he can be at this point. He was quite literally shaking his ass in the air minutes ago, and Richie did nothing.
He could probably end this all by just talking to him, but that is far too vulnerable. At least now, if Richie says something, he has plausible deniability. He can always just say he's horny and wants to get laid, pull out the We're both gay! reasoning. But if he actually were to talk to Richie, he would probably have to come clean about the whole domestic fantasy side of this shit, and he's much too stubborn for that. It's a lot easier to wear tight shorts instead of, like, putting his feelings out there in the open.
So instead, Eddie resolves to find a way to be more obvious. He's not sure how he's going to do that, short of taking off his pants and asking Richie to straight up just look at his hole, but he'll find a way. At this point, he's willing to sacrifice his pride if it means Richie might finally blow his back out.