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"Richie, are you home?" Eddie left his shoes on the rack by the door and called through the hallway, pulling his tie off and starting to unbutton his shirt as he nudged his way through the ajar bedroom door. "Rich?" He looked up and his eyebrows flew up into his hairline. "R- Richie?"
Richie stood by their dresser, holding a long plastic tube to his naked groin, a frustrated look on his face. He looked up when Eddie walked in, "Fuck, Eddie, you weren't supposed to be home yet." He fumbled with his phone, dropping it on the floor. A picture of Eddie with his shirt off shined up at them. "I-I, uh… fuck I don't want to fuck this up again, I already ruined the first one."
"The first-? Richie, what are you even doing?" Eddie started to laugh at the absurdity of the image in front of him, Richie, completely naked and balls deep in a plastic tube that said "CLONE-A-WILLY" in big pink letters across it, his face screwed up in concentration.
"Don't laugh, I'm trying to do something for you and I ruined the first one because the material is fucking weird and I couldn't-" Richie was turning red.
"Couldn't?" Eddie prompted, though he was starting to get the idea. He continued unbuttoning his shirt.
"I couldn't stay hard, the stupid material feels weird as hell on my dick, and I have to stay, like, up in there, for like five minutes, stop laughing and help me, Eds!" Richie squirmed where he stood.
"Help you, huh?" Eddie stalled on the last button and bit his lip, looking up at Richie through his eyelashes and smirking. Richie gulped, and Eddie chuckled, finishing unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders without breaking eye contact. Richie's eyes had gone from panicked to dark at the tone of his voice. He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Richie's shoulder. The taller man shivered. "Can you sit down like this or not?"
"Uhh… I could probably lean? I think I might fuck it up if I sit," he huffed out.
"Alright, baby. Lean back." Eddie pushed Richie's hips lightly against the cool wood of the dresser behind him and backed away from him, pulling off his undershirt and unfastening his slacks. He sat on the bed wearing only his boxers and socks and palmed himself, already half hard just looking at Richie standing there naked a few feet in front of him. He never ceased to be amazed that he and Richie were together, after years of pining, forgetting, and pining again.
He pulled off his socks, eyes trailing up Richie's body, from his toes, curling in anticipation and probably a little anxiety, up his calves and his thick thighs, covered in coarse brown hair that got lighter farther up. The plastic tube he was holding currently obscured his view, so his eyes roamed up to Richie's chest, a spray of fingertip-shaped bruises along the bottom of his ribs from two nights ago in the kitchen when Richie had lifted him up and fucked him on the counter, Eddie holding on for dear life. He gripped himself through the fabric of his underwear with a groan. He watched Richie's broad, hairy chest heave with breath and grinned, knowing he wasn't having any trouble focusing on staying hard anymore, going by the flush that had spread across his collarbone and throat. He finally looked into Richie's eyes as he pulled his cock free of his boxers and wrapped his fingers around it, stroking himself for him to watch.
"Oh, fuck, Eds." Richie groaned, like the words had been punched out of his chest.
He slipped the last of his clothing off, the fabric pooling at his ankles, and grinned. "Not having any trouble now, are you, Rich?"
"Fuck, no. You're so hot, it's insane."
He skimmed his thumb over his tip, his head falling back for a second. But it felt too good to have Richie watching him like this, and he looked back up again. He splayed a hand over his thigh, gripping at it the way Richie would sometimes, and rotated his wrist at the same time. "A-ah, shit." He started to move quicker, and Richie let out a sound, not unlike a whimper, and checked the timer Eddie hadn't noticed sitting on the dresser next to him. A little over a minute remained, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh at the pained groan that Richie let out, his fingers flexing like he wanted to reach out.
"This might be working too well, Eddie, I'm, uh. This is really fucking working for me." Richie licked his lips, watching Eddie's hand.
"Yeah, you like watching me, babe? Seeing me, oh, falling apart, wishing it was… hm, yeah… wishing it was your hands on me?" He pressed his thumb to the tendon of his hip, thrusting up off the bed into his hand a little thinking about Richie's hands.
"Yeah, god. Yeah, I do. I love you so fucking much." He glanced at the timer again.
"I l-love you, too. Fuck, we never do this in person, just on Skype when you're touring." He ran his free hand through his hair.
"Yeah, I'm going a little crazy here, not being able to touch myself watching you, not being able to come over there and touch you. Eddie, you're so beautiful, look at you." Richie said hoarsely. "That's… that's what this is for, by the way. Uh, when I'm on tour, so you have something, to…"
"Oh my fucking god, Richie, you… oh, fuck, how long do you have left, I need you to fucking touch me, I can't, I can't, please," Eddie begged, his toes curling as the edge crept closer.
"I-" The timer when off and Richie cursed, easing himself out of the tube and setting it on the dresser before grabbing a wipe from the pack he'd set out, hissing at the sensation of the soft wipe against how hard he was. He tossed it aside, not caring where it landed as he fell to his knees in front of Eddie.
Eddie leaned back on both hands as he let Richie press sloppy kisses to his thighs, feeling like he was being lit on fire he was so turned on. He let out a loud gasp as Richie sunk his mouth over him, his arms wrapping around to spread over Eddie's back, pulling him as close as he could as he moved up and down. He flattened his tongue against the vein throbbing on the underside of his dick and it was all over, Eddie shuddering and coming hot down his throat with a hand fisted in his curls.
Richie stood shakily as Eddie pulled him up onto the bed. He pushed Richie onto his back and propped himself onto his elbow, sucking a mark into his hip while he jerked him off quickly with a spit-slicked hand until he was falling to pieces and coming in thick stripes over his chest and Eddie's hand.
They both lay there, catching their breath, for a few moments before Eddie got up to grab another couple of wipes, cleaning his hand off before wiping down Richie's chest, peppering kisses over the trail of cleaned skin. He dropped the wipes in the trash can by his bedside table before curling around Richie again to doze off with his head on his chest.