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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[hypochondrias]

God
Everywhere
Start with my chest

[trashmouthing]

goddamn kaspbrak
the things i'd lick off your fucking abs

[hypochondrias]

You better fucking start giving me a list

[trashmouthing]

damn near anything
i just want to put my mouth on you
you said start with your chest but how could i not start with your mouth

[hypochondrias]

I don’t see a reason why you can’t touch me and kiss me at the same time

[trashmouthing]

fuck i want that so bad
i want to hear the sounds you'd make if i kissed you
felt you up under your fucking polos

[hypochondrias]

You should hear the sounds I’m making right now

[ Eddie’s finally slipped a hand down his boxer briefs, rubbing himself idly while his eyes read and reread the last series of texts. ]

God please get your hands on me
I’m kind of obsessed with your hands
And your arms

[trashmouthing]

you touching yourself eds?
wishing it was my hands on you
i wanna paw you up i wanna know what you feel like in my sleep

[hypochondrias]

Yeah I am
Tell me you are too
You wanna spend the night with me? Wake up in the morning with me?

[trashmouthing]

i was doing it when i first texted sweetheart
i want to spend every minute with you every day
fuck you every night
if you'd let me
the things i'd do if you'd just let me

[hypochondrias]

Oh god Richie
I’m not gonna stop thinking about this for a long time
I wanna know what you imagine
I want your every thought

[trashmouthing]

[ yeah, this definitely constitutes crossing a line, but—richie's too far gone to care at this point, his dick straining hard in his boxers and eddie's voice a constant fever dream in his head. he reaches down, gives the base of his cock a warning squeeze, the room reeling so hard he has to shut his eyes for a long moment before he texts back. ]

hahaha how much free time you got
the doing nasty shit to eddie kaspbrak inner mind theatre is open 24 hours

i want to make you feel better than you've ever felt in your life
that fucking
toe curling shit
i want to see that beautiful dick i wanna touch it so fucking bad
with those hands you like so much
or see how it fits down my throat
take my sweet time learning how to make you come

[hypochondrias]

For you
I've got all the time in the world

[ this might be unfair, all things considered - his marital status, the distance. but in eddie's heart, it's as true as any other confession he's made. he'd do anything for richie. anything.

including nearly losing consciousness, as it turns out, because eddie's pretty sure what's going on in richie's mind, but seeing it written out on his screen? in lurid detail? the arousal seems to sink into eddie's bones, and he closes his eyes, cock twitching in his hand. ]

Fuck
Listen
I don't wanna dampen your enthusiasm but I have to tell you that I've never done this with a guy before
But god do I want to

[trashmouthing]

please you think i give a shit
i've never done it with anyone i wanted as bad as i want you
i want to kiss you so damn bad

[hypochondrias]

God I really want you
More than I've ever wanted anyone either
I can't stop thinking about the way you held me since we left Derry
What's gonna happen if you kiss me? If you get your mouth on me?

[trashmouthing]

[ his cock aches with how hard he is, but there's something more important that cleaves through the weight of whiskey in his brain. it's not even eleven at night yet and richie feels like all his limbs are being pulled in separate directions, tied to horses, ready to gallop.

so there's a pause, and then the text comes. it's practically a warning. ]

if i get any part of me on any part of you again i'm not letting you go

[hypochondrias]

[ if there’s an extra weight to this particular response of richie's, eddie doesn’t notice. probably because this entire conversation has gone to places eddie's tried his hardest to separate, to push behind the imaginary line of if we cross this, there's no going back.

and anyway, what richie’s just said sounds more like a comfort than anything else. god, he aches with longing. ]

You’re the only person who’s ever held me through the night
The only person I’ve wanted to
And I want you to be the only one who ever does

[trashmouthing]

fucking christ

[ just that for a long minute, richie pushing himself up on one hand, stalking to the bedroom like a caged panther. it's not the most comfortable journey, his hard-on like a fucking dowsing rod and the world tilting in his vision, but if he's gonna pass out eventually he would prefer to do it in bed, eddie's voice in his ear— ]

you somewhere i can call?

[hypochondrias]

One second

[ myra is a light sleeper in the best of circumstances, but eddie swears she’s gotten even worse in the time he’d spent recuperating from surgery. which means he has to leave the house entirely if he’s going to have a conversation, slipping into a coat before he steps out onto the front landing. he sits down beside the front door, bringing his knees up to his chest, heart hammering when he calls richie first. ]

Hey. [ his voice is small, but the emotion is evident. he sighs, relieved to be talking. ]

[trashmouthing]

Hey, spaghetti.

[ he collapses back in bed and scrubs his face with his hand. ]

You okay?

[ the first and most important question. ]

[hypochondrias]

Yeah. Yeah, god, I feel... really great, actually. [ eddie sighs again, huffs a laugh. ] Yeah. Are you?

[trashmouthing]

Yeah. [ a pause. ] My dick's so hard I could probably fuck a diamond right now, but I mean, yeah.

[ there's a laugh in his voice at his own joke. ]

Eds—

[hypochondrias]

[ his eyes close, feet sliding across the floor. eddie can imagine any number of ways richie can relieve this tension. almost too many scenarios to narrow down. ]

Yeah?

[trashmouthing]

I had ... like, five shots earlier. So if you needed a freebie ... [ he trails off, another huff of a laugh in his voice. giving them both the coward's way out. he shouldn't, shouldn't have to. he killed that fucking clown, they both did, and even if eddie let him go he's still the bravest motherfucker richie has ever known. he shakes his head. ] Fuck. No, that's not what I wanna say.

[ he rubs at his face with his hand some more. for some reason he thinks he could cry any second now, even though he just said he was fine. ]

I'm not fucking around. When I say that shit. [ his voice low, whiskey-syrupy. ] Just want that on the record.

[hypochondrias]

[ no surprise that Richie’s been drinking; that’s usually the case whenever they stray too close to affection, when the talk between them gets heavy with implication. loose tongues and all that. he stays quiet, giving richie space to work through his emotions in words. and when he does, eddie finds himself nodding, cradling the phone against his face like it’s precious. ]

I know. [ no judgment, no pressure. ] I mean it too. Everything I say, it’s not just... because it sounds nice, or something. I think about you all the time. Every day.