tags: band au, size difference, yearning, eddie's a slut, richie's too cocky, but it's hot so it's okay, blowjobs, public sex, god complex, daddy kink, pet names, oral, anal, breeding, face fucking, boot fucking, mean top, crying, sado/madochism, hickies, size queen, dirty talk, lots of dialogue, happy ending
Eddie Kaspbrak, It Was Criminal's ultimate number one fan, puts his little hands on the stage. He's begging to be noticed, just like he does at every concert. Richie Tozier is impossibly tall and lit up under a million differently colored stage lights. Richie is the frontman of It Was Criminal, on vocals and electric. There are four other band members, but Eddie doesn't care.
"Beautiful," he says to himself, and it's almost like he said nothing at all with the way the sound is completely trampled by Richie's guitar. Eddie watches him move with the music, jumping around, his curls bouncing and sweat flying off his face.
Tonight, Eddie's dressed in dangerously little shorts and a pink crop. His eyes are ringed with a thick black liner, heavy rainbow glitter on every single part of his face and body that could sparkle. It clearly took some time and, just like Eddie prayed, Richie is attracted to his shine. It's almost impossible not to when Eddie's glowing like a traffic light. Richie looks down into the audience and finally, for the first time ever, meets Eddie's wide eyes and smiles. He fucking SMILES, and he waves. Eddie grins so hard that his face hurts. Yeah, tonight's the fucking night. It literally has to be.
Eddie waits until the show is over, pouts about its ending, and then he tries to charisma his way backstage. Of course security cockblocks him, just like they do at every show. It seems impossible. There are a hundred or more people, all screaming, pushing, and shoving their way towards the back.
"Just 'cause you're little and cute, man," The security guard starts.
"Thank you," Eddie interjects, "makeup's cute?"
"Yes." The security guard answers, "But still, can't let you in. Sorry."
Eddie shrugs. "Y'think Richie's gonna like it? I'm dying to get my manicured hands on him."
As if summoned by name, Richie literally materializes behind the guard. "'Scuse me, Dave. Gonna sneak right by you." He says, stepping in front of Dave to tower over the cutest fan he's ever met.
"Love it, baby. S'really cute. Did that yourself?" Richie asks. "Your hands must be pretty steady, huh?"
Eddie nods, looking up at him through his long, thick lashes. He's pretty much drooling, plush lips parted like he's waiting for something to happen to them.
Richie grins, and he knows what he's doing.
Eddie feels blush start to creep across his cheeks and shuts his mouth.
Dave rounds Richie's shoulder and says, exasperated, "You're really doing this again?"
Richie flashes a quick smile for Dave, but refuses to take his eyes off of Eddie. "Relaaax, man. See the way he's looking at me? He wants it." He grins, then licks his lower lip. "Y'want it, don't you, princess?"
"Oh," Eddie replies impatiently, "I really fucking want it."
Dave rolls his eyes. "'Kay. Whatever. What do you even pay me for?"
Eddie lets Richie lead him into the backstage area, which is dark, loud, and stuffy as hell. As Richie takes him through, Eddie starts to feel very aware of Richie's hand hot on the small of his back. He can feel the sweat from Richie's palm and it makes him picture how sexy he was on stage. He rolls his eyes to shake the thought from his head. It sticks to the front of his mind like a leech.
"So, uh," Eddie stammers, "you fuck a lot of fans?" He can't stop thinking about Richie's hand on his back. He wants it so bad.
Richie laughs and looks down at Eddie. He's got a good foot on him, probably more. "Depends. They'd have to be perfect, and what're the odds of there being two perfect twinks in the world? Even slimmer that both of them like my band. So, uh... nope, not really."
