open post;; yeah why's it so fuckin' funny dickwad?

[hypochondrias]

text/call/action ; open to losers and cross-canon! ; drop a starter or send me a prompt! ; specify era/age if you please

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[trashmouthing]

i am

[ for what, he can leave that up to the imagination. it's a dusky night in los angeles. if he actually did hook up tonight he's pretty sure whiskey dick would win out—not that he would. he hasn't put his hands on anyone else since derry, which is admirable given how fucking horny he is lately. if he thinks about it too long it feels promise ring trite, and then if he thinks about it even longer than that he knows he has a good reason.

so he's just on the couch, half-dressed, trying not to grind a hole in the sofa cushions thinking about the way eddie looks when he blushes. ]

distract me

[hypochondrias]

[ eddie aches somewhere deep, because richie doesn't deny being desperate and god, eddie sympathizes. he feels the blood rush south, his dick doing all the sympathizing for him, breathing irregular. ]

How am I supposed to do that?
It's midnight on a Friday and I'm not supposed to think about sex?

[trashmouthing]

[ that's not helpful. richie kind of wants to laugh, though, because it's also so very eddie. the two of them never know how to fucking tread softly around anything.

he shifts onto his back and scrubs a hand over his face, tilting his glasses askew. the room is spinning anyway and his thoughts are muddled. ]

people do other shit on fridays eds
or so i'm told

[hypochondrias]

[ for a long moment eddie really, actually considers this weird state of limbo he and richie have occupied since he'd woken up at derry home hospital. it's a place where they don't acknowledge a lot of things, like eddie's marriage, or what's really going on here between them. at times liberating, at times frustrating, eddie vacillates wildly between wanting to live in this limbo forever and also wanting to drive a stake right through the heart of it.

but being that it's midnight on a friday, he's leaning towards the former. ]

As a married man I can vouch for the fact that people do other shit
Not all of us can be the wild sexual being you are

[trashmouthing]

[ there are a million not very nice things richie could say to that and doesn't. he keeps his hand loosely on his face, gazing at his phone from between his fingers. his hard-on isn't going anywhere, but he can still try and text like a normal person. ]

what kind of being are you then eds
enlighten me

[hypochondrias]

[ now faced with the question, eddie pauses, searches. and finds he’s not sure what the answer is. leave it to a midnight conversation with richie to send eddie down a long, barely lit road of self reflection.

anyway, richie's obviously thinking of sex and what, eddie's supposed to ignore that? change the subject? fuck that. ]

Not really sure to be honest
But I’m starting to think I’m a pent up one

[trashmouthing]

pent up how

[ he likes goading him, a little. it's been harmless so far, and anyway making eddie think seems pivotal to them getting out of this mess in the first place.

he reaches down absently to rub the heel of his hand over his dick, which hasn't flagged much in his boxers. good thing he hadn't called—he's almost certain hearing eddie's voice would take this places he knows they're not ready to go. ]

[hypochondrias]

In a lot of ways

[ he’s known at least this about himself his entire life and he might as well put it in words. he’s got a feeling richie already knows this too, that maybe he just wants to hear eddie say it.

it’s just like them to keep doing this, for eddie to keep enabling and being openly receptive to having the same done to him in return. ]

With my feelings
My relationships
And about sex
There’s just a hell of a lot about sex that I can’t stop thinking about lately

[trashmouthing]

really
has this been going on for a long time

[ :) ]

[hypochondrias]

No
Yes maybe
I’m not really sure but it has gotten worse lately

[trashmouthing]

there are websites for that

[ look, richie can take the edge off. it's fine, this is fine. ]

[hypochondrias]

[ eddie, well aware of how hot his cheeks are burning from where this conversation is going, powers through. keep richie talking and maybe he’ll keep offering details about his sex life. ]

I never got into that
It’s just not the same as wanting to feel someone spooning your side in bed
Not even close

[trashmouthing]

[ then why the fuck are you even married, part of richie's brain wants to ask. he shoves that back for another time, pivots to here, now, the fact of those words on the screen. ]

i miss holding you

[hypochondrias]

You have no idea
I miss the way your arms feel around me
I wanna know what it feels like to hold you too

[trashmouthing]

there's a lot i want to know

[hypochondrias]

Yeah
Me too

[trashmouthing]

i'm thinking i'm gonna find out someday

[hypochondrias]

You wanna tell me more about that?

[ there’s a silent ‘please?’ tacked onto the end there. ]

[trashmouthing]

all the time

[hypochondrias]

Must be tough keeping it in

[trashmouthing]

you have no idea

[ parroting eddie's words back at him as if they're a wall the both of them can hide behind. but even drunk richie knows better: it's more like a veil, and he knows if eddie tries any harder to push it aside he's going to give in. ]

[hypochondrias]

I might have some idea

[ it’s like eddie's talking to himself. they’re a mirror image, wrestling with the same difficulties, speaking the same cryptic language. ]

[trashmouthing]

i want to do more than just hold you

[hypochondrias]

I want you to touch me

[trashmouthing]

tell me where