ethereal : it oneshots

pocket-dial

pairing: reddie

this was the sixth time richie had butt-dialed eddie in one day. eddie didn't know it was possible to accidentally call someone that many times within four hours. richie had been going from party to party with his friends to celebrate a birthday. eddie had no idea whose birthday, but somebodies.

richie had kept eddie away from most of his friends, and eddie was thankful for it. they were, in eddie's opinion, juvenile, idiotic, and all-together stupid. and he wasn't wrong. but so was richie, and eddie loved richie nonetheless.

but anyway, back to the butt-dials. they were driving eddie insane because something within him would compel him to answer the call. this meant he would then have to listen to "party ambience" and sometimes, if he was real unlucky, he'd hear richie talking dirty to some girl at the party. richie was always pulling shit like that. eddie couldn't stand it, he had no clue how he was best friends with such a guy. furthermore, he had no idea how he was in love with such a guy.

yeah, he was in love with richie. stupid, he knew. if eddie's friends knew, they would make fun of him. "him? he's such a player!" and "he'd just cheat on you haha" and "eddie... i didn't know your taste in guys was that bad". and it would hurt, but if he was in a relationship with richie, somehow it wouldn't matter. richie had always flirted with him, but it was one of those things where straight guys pretended to be gay to be funny. that's what eddie figured, at least. it was annoying. everything was platonic with a hint of romanticism.

and it might just kill eddie.

when richie left those parties that night, he came to eddie's house. god knows why, because eddie sure didn't. he knocked at the door the way they did in grade six. how the hell did he remember that?

"what the fuck?" eddie's first words as he opened the door to a very crossed richie. he looked as though he was going to vomit (and he probably was) and yet he looked really fucking hot.

"h'llo." richie stated, before running to the bathroom. eddie sighed and closed his front door, slowly following the very illegally intoxicated teenager to the bathroom.

"i swear to god rich, if my momma was home i would be killing you right now." eddie said as he followed into the bathroom, where richie was on the ground by the toilet. eddie, disgusted, turned from richie to grab a towel and a bottle of water.

after richie finished emptying his guts, he found himself at eddie's kitchen island, watching eddie make toast for him. he definitely could be making it himself, but eddie insisted. richie didn't mind. he got a view of eddie's ass, and richie's (still intoxicated) mind was not arguing with that.

"do you know that you butt-dialed me six times while you were partying? it was so goddamn distracting." eddie was talking to richie mindlessly when he brought up the subject of the butt-dials.

"didn't know a pocket-dial meant so much to you eds." richie retorted, snorting (and then immediately regretting it because his throat and nose tasted of vomit).

"i... i just can't stand hearing you make out with these stupid bimbos all the time. and what for? you just going to fuck them until you get one pregnant? is that the goal?" eddie turned to face richie, richie's eyes snapping up to his face.

"what? eddie where the fuck is this coming from?" richie scrunched his face in confusion. he pushed his glasses a bit further up his face.

"i just want to know why you've become such a fuckboy!" eddie was getting increasingly infuriated. richie bit his tongue for a second,

"i'm kissing strangers hoping one day it'll be you!"

eddie's first reaction was denial. he didn't mean that. richie was drunk. richie was high. richie was post-vomit.

the irony of the toast popping up from the toaster interrupted their silence. they still didn't talk, eddie simply turning around to get out the butter. he finished buttering the toast and placed the plate in front of richie.

richie had been staring into eddie's eyes, hoping for some kind of a positive reaction.

"i meant it. no bullshit." richie spoke clearly.

eddie's second reaction was anger. if he liked eddie, why did he spend so much of his time away from him? why the fuck did he decide he'd rather live on platonic stares and making out with girls than just admitting he liked eddie? this could have been done with so much earlier! they could have been happy.

but now they were sitting on either side of the kitchen island, staring at each other.

eddie pulled out his inhaler,

"are you fucking kidding me? just accept or reject me!" richie exclaimed, taking an aggressive bite of his toast.

"kiss me and let's decide then." eddie didn't know where that came from, but he said it anyway. he wanted to know if what he felt for richie was real.

richie shrugged. "i have vomit breath."

eddie pointed to the bathroom.

after coming back from brushing his teeth, eddie was waiting for him. he walked up to eddie and they kissed.

there was no music, no fireworks, only anger.

richie also still tasted of puke and toothpaste. if eddie wasn't ecstatic about kissing richie, he might have vomited himself.

anger from both ends, an aggressive and rough kiss. richie's one hand caressed eddie's cheek and the other landed on his hip. dangerously close. both of eddie's were on richie's neck. it was completely fuelled by rage and it meant that there were lips bitten and tongues scraped by teeth.

richie backed away to whisper things in eddie's ear, things he was sure richie had said in those butt-dials to other girls, but it was different because he was talking to him. richie was talking to him. it was different, wasn't it?

eddie had no time to worry about it as richie soon moved onto eddie's jaw and neck, leaving marks eddie knew he'd have to cover somehow.  eddie was simply gasping, having never experienced something like that. he'd lived his life without this, without richie like this, and now he wanted to live like this forever.

"baby..." sometimes richie would mutter between kisses making eddie's heart do things he'd never imagined. richie moved back up to eddie's lips, and they stayed there until they ran out of breath.

"so? made up your mind?" richie asked, his lips curling up into a smirk.

"you still tasted a bit like vomit. you better not regret this when you're sober." eddie replied, snarky. richie licked his lips.

"i won't baby." eddie's goddamn heart.

"then i want you."

"that's good."