Chapter Text
“I can’t believe you haven’t told me a thing about this place,” Eddie says, pinned under Richie’s weight on their bed.
“It’s because I’m amazing at secrets,” Richie answers, kissing at the sparse patch of hair on Eddie’s chest, hands tugging their bodies together. It distracts Eddie for a moment, but then he twists away.
“You are horrible at secrets. You proposed to me the day after you got the ring,” Eddie says. Richie rolls his eyes. And then his hips. Eddie gasps.
“I’m also a romantic, Edward,” he says, and Eddie groans into his mouth.
It’s been a long day - the last before their vacation officially starts. Thanks to some clever maneuvering, Richie doesn’t have any shows for the next two weeks, and Eddie got time off work on a wing and a prayer. That leaves them with eight full days of honey-mooning, and Richie has big plans. And they all start with the new plug in the bedside drawer.
Eddie has spent the last few months building up his tolerance for keeping a plug in for this very occasion. Months ago, over breakfast and apropos of nothing, Eddie handed Richie a pamphlet on “appropriate plug use” and a printout from a website that held testimonials on how long-term plug users managed to keep theirs in all day. Eddie was determined. And shirtless. Richie was horny, and he spent the whole presentation squirming in his seat, drooling at the flex of Eddie’s arms, before Eddie knelt down right there and sucked him dry. A reward for kind of paying attention, which Richie’s always thought to be his forte.
Richie reaches for the drawer, mind flitting with memories of Eddie’s eyes on him, Eddie’s mouth humming around him, Eddie’s stupid pamphlet bunched up in his hand while he came down his throat.
“How do you wanna do this?” Richie asks, plug box in hand. It’s a small, black silicone one, because that’s “the most porous” and “best for all day use,” according to the information now drilled into Richie’s brain via one very educational blow job.
“What do you mean? You’ve put a plug in me before.”
“No, duh. I mean, do you want me to fuck you first? Are you too tired?” Richie asks. Eddie had come home late, devoured the leftovers Richie had heated up while ranting and raving about his incompetent coworkers, and then promptly pulled Richie into the bedroom to get this vacation started.
“Do I look tired to you?” Eddie answers, gesturing down to himself, and Richie surveys the picture in front of him. Eddie’s flat on his back on the bed, creeping flush and bite marks covering his neck. His dick is practically standing at attention, resting lightly on the inside of Richie’s thigh where he’s straddling him. Richie groans.
“Not a bit, sorry I asked,” he says, fumbling to pull the plug out of its box and onto the bed. Eventually he gives up and moves to press his lips to Eddie’s chest, too distracted by its heaving in his peripheral. Weaving his tongue around one nipple, he rubs a hand over Eddie’s arm, down his hip, over the hair under his navel. Eddie hums, and Richie almost moans.
Something about being on the edge of their honeymoon wells up emotion in his chest. They’ve never had this much time to spend together, not since they first left Derry. And most of that time had been spent with Eddie recovering. They didn’t get together until almost a year later, and by that point Eddie was back to working full-time. Richie wants so badly to let the time drag out, take it slowly, enjoy each other and bicker their fucking heads off about all sorts of stupid shit. He smiles at the thought of it, and Eddie catches him lost in a daydream.
“Enjoying yourself down there? ‘Cause you’re kinda blue-balling me,” Eddie says, voice tense, and Richie laughs.
“You’re so fucking impatient, Jesus.” He leans away, rubbing gentle hands up both of Eddie’s thighs, but maintaining a distance from his erection. Eddie whimpers, but his voice is strong.
“You’re the one who mentioned fucking me and then immediately took the speed down to glacial,” he says, then sighs when Richie wraps a hand around his dick at last. Richie bends down to lick around the head, tracing it with his tongue as Eddie gulps down air.
“This what you wanted?” Richie asks. Eddie’s hips are jerking up, but he still looks unimpressed. It makes Richie go hot.
“I wanna get fucked, but I trust you’re building up to it,” Eddie says, such a snarky asshole, and Richie can’t handle it, squeezes hard around him and attacks his mouth with a kiss. Eddie makes a loud squeak, surprised at his sudden shift in mood, but he goes with it when Richie starts to pump him in earnest, mouth opening hard against his.
Later, when Eddie’s stretching around the plug, full of Richie’s come, both of them tangled in the sheets and each other, all that’s going through Richie’s mind is how fucking lucky he is to get even one day alone with someone he loves so much.
Richie’s first plan goes off without a hitch. The second, not so much.
After they get out of the city, the drive isn’t too bad, and Eddie only complains about how tightly Richie tailgates until halfway through, so he calls it a win. They pull up onto a rocky trail, drive for another mile and a half, and make a turn through a small gate they have to get out and open themselves.
“If we get fucking murdered here I am never going to forgive you,” Eddie says when he gets back in the car, because the passenger is the support system, something they had given up on arguing about because Richie always drives and he will never concede the point.
When they pull up over the hill, Eddie actually gasps, and his smile is so wide and genuine that Richie lights up, too.
His husband is a huge nerd. Eddie likes creepy things and mysteries and eerie stories as long as nothing gets too real or frightening. Or has anything to do with a clown. Despite what they had been through, Eddie’s always loved Halloween. Richie had asked him why exactly once.
“Pennywise happened in the summer, Rich,” Eddie had whispered, not because they don’t talk about It, but because sometimes saying the name out loud makes them both feel crazy, their memories a painful and twisted up fog they’ve been working on for years. Richie had clung to him tightly, pressed together in bed.
“Plus, it’s Gay Christmas,” Eddie finished, yawned, and then promptly fell asleep.
Richie couldn’t argue with that.
And when it came to finding novelty cabins to rent for a week, it made things a whole lot easier to narrow down. He found the place online, because he’s not sure where people find much else these days, and thankfully coming in on a Monday meant they were able to book it.
Richie pulls their bags out of the trunk, all seven of them, because Eddie insisted on being prepared for every eventuality, and stares up at his new home for the next week. It looks just like the pictures. Which look like they came out of a movie. A creepy fucking thriller about a writer who goes up to one of these alone and ends up killing a couple dogs and his ex-wife.
But Eddie’s eyes are shining as he gets out of the car and approaches the front door, so Richie shakes off the feeling of dread and shifts his focus.
The house stands on a small hill, surrounded by trees. The whole place is covered in a layer of ivy and moss, and the closest neighbors are half a mile away, other than the winery that’s down the hill. There’s a fire pit, a gas grill and a sizable hot tub on the little porch. There’s a small alcove with a table and a couple of chairs, and Richie instantly knows where he wants to smoke the joints he rolled for the trip.
Actually, Richie sees a lot of potential here. Eddie is on Cloud Nine, walking circles around the property and reading the warning label on the hot tub. Richie watches him with a grin.
“It’s fucking perfect,” Eddie says once he comes back around.
“Wow, perfect,” Richie says, whistling, “Last time I heard that word from your mouth had more to do with my dick in your ass.”
Eddie stares at him, arms dangling, and Richie waggles his eyebrows.
“Okay, back in the car. Honeymoon over,” Eddie says, stalking back toward him. Richie throws himself in front of the car door before he can reach the handle.
“No fucking way, dude, I just dragged seven industrial sized suitcases out of the trunk, you are marching your perky ass into that house,” Richie says, pointing to the door. He realizes that either way, he’s going to need to lug these awful things a little further, to the door or the trunk, but Eddie hasn’t yelled back yet. Instead, his face is red, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, but it’s not his usual fighting stance. He’s… turned on. Richie watches him, a smile spreading over his lips, and Eddie raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir,” he says, and Richie’s face falls slack. Eddie turns on his heel, but not before grabbing at the handle of three suitcases to bring with him. Heart pounding in his chest, Richie considers abandoning the rest and consummating the trip right here on the rocks, but he knows Eddie, and there are several very logical and sanitary reasons why he would never go for it.
Still, Eddie’s never called him sir before.
Richie follows Eddie into the house, dragging four suitcases behind him because he’s not about to be one-upped, not on his own honeymoon.
The inside is more rustic and less frightening than the outside, and Richie is grateful, since this is where they will be spending most of their time. It’s one open space but for the bathroom, with brand new appliances, a cozy living room and a giant California king under a half-moon window in the bedroom. Big arches separate the rooms, small torches mounted to the wall with LED lights. There’s a set of stairs near the door that head down to a large basement, complete with a bar and pool table.
“The whole place is powered by solar energy, that’s what those huge lights are!” Eddie says, pointing up at the circular glowing orbs stuck in the middle of the ceiling of each room. He looks back down to where Richie is opening the fridge, eyes wild with excitement. Richie chuckles.
“Pretty nicely stocked kitchen, too. We’ll have to get some groceries on the way back, but there’s a lot of stuff to cook here.” Richie says.
“Way back? Are we going somewhere already?” Eddie asks, still excited, and Richie nods.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Richie says. Eddie presses his hands to his hips and Richie caves. “Well, yeah, we’re leaving, I guess that’s not gonna be a secret. But to where? You’ll never know!” Richie finishes, in some sort of spooky voice because this house is getting to him. Eddie cracks a smile and laughs, moving forward to slap him on the shoulder. Then he gasps and heads toward the bathroom, where Richie hears him exclaim a few seconds later.
Richie follows him to find him standing in front of a giant mirror on the wall opposite the shower, which has a large, glass door and a bench inside.
“I think we can both agree I nailed it,” Richie says, out of his mind with glee. Eddie loves fucking in the shower. It’s the cleanest they could ever get, and even though it’s slippery and dangerous, they go slow and Eddie is all careful and concerned and flushed from head to toe and, okay, so Richie also really loves fucking in the shower.
Eddie also has a thing for mirrors. Which is why he’s mesmerized by the full body one he’s currently staring into. In fact, he looks just about to drop his pants and insist Richie fuck him immediately when Richie pulls on the sleeve of his shirt.
“Babe, I have plans, remember? We can use the mirror later, I promise, it’s all part of the plan,” Richie says, wrapping his arms around Eddie and turning him to face the shower instead.
“It was? You knew this was here?” Eddie’s eyes are so hopeful, and Richie wants to lie, but there’s really no point.
“Uhm. No,” he says, and Eddie rolls out of his grip. “I can adjust the plan based on new information! And this was immediately added to the plan . Now. Let’s get a move on before it gets too late.”
Eddie’s arms are crossed over his chest, like he’s turning it over in his mind. He sighs.
“Fine.”
“I promise I will fuck you in front of this mirror,” Richie says, hands clasped together to swear.
“You fucking better, the drive alone with this plug in was torture,” Eddie says, and Richie’s eyes go unfocused for a second.
He had spent some time watching Eddie shift in the passenger’s seat on the drive, they had hit lots of bumps, but he tried to focus on the road instead of how easily he could reach over and slip a hand under Eddie’s sweatpants. Eddie always traveled ultra-comfortable, especially if they were in the car and had no pit stops planned. The temptation to pull over and fuck him in the backseat had only crossed Richie’s mind once. He nixed it quickly to avoid back pain this early in the trip, but the thought of a fast handjob stuck with him.
Richie leads Eddie out of the bathroom at long last, but as they’re leaving, he hears Eddie whisper behind him as he lets the mirror out of his sights.
“I’ll be back for you, beautiful.”
Richie pumps his fist. Really. Fucking. Nailed it.
The drive to their adventure destination is another twenty minutes, but it shaves time off of the walking they would have to do, and Richie doesn’t want to push it. Mike told him about this place a few months ago, when he was booking the cabin. Mike had done his fair share of traveling, and whenever he was in LA he ended up taking a long route back home, so he found little hidden gems. The lack of hiking was a plus, along with incredible views and the fact that Mike spent a solid eight hours camped out in the same place and never saw another person.
“Are we almost there?” Eddie says, watching tree after tree pass him in the window. “Why do we keep going up?” He peers through the windshield and Richie grips the wheel.
It is getting a little scary. The road is narrow, and even though they haven’t seen another car in awhile, Richie’s not sure what he would do if one appeared. His options are crashing into a wall of rocks or falling off the edge of what looks to be a canyon.
“My phone lost signal but from what Mike said, I think we’ll be there soon.”
Eddie harumphes. Richie white knuckles it the rest of the way there.
The view ends up being so, so worth it.
Their climb is mild, though it’s steep. Eddie jogs every morning, so he takes it quicker than Richie, even with the plug snug up inside him. He makes little breathy noises every time it hits right, and Richie sneaks in a few squeezes to his ass on the way up, just to keep up the excitement.
Eddie arrives at the peak first and gasps. Richie counts three so far this trip, and that’s pretty impressive, considering they have yet to have sex and it’s only been about three hours, not counting the drive. When Richie climbs up to meet him, his eyes glaze over.
They’re on a relatively small patch of land among the trees, all dirt and some greenery. Where the rock ends is a crooked ledge, big enough for both of them to sit comfortably near the edge and enjoy a picnic. But the vista below it is the real selling point.
They stand side by side, taking in the view, elbows knocking in the slightest breeze. The lines of trees and rocks and water stretch out beyond what Richie thinks is probably human existence, all jagged and colorful. The warmth in the air isn’t suffocating, not today. Instead the sun flows through beautifully, bouncing off the water in reflections that point up toward the sky. He turns to look at Eddie and sees tears in his eyes.
“Eddie.”
“Don’t say a fucking word,” Eddie sniffs, and Richie, for once in his life, doesn’t. He pats Eddie on the shoulder and leaves him to it, turning around to retrieve the basket he put down on the dirt behind them. It’s not ideal, but the blanket he brought is big enough to shield Eddie from the mess. Eddie’s right behind him as soon as he turns back.
“You brought a picnic?” Eddie asks, and Richie jumps.
“Christ, Eds, no surprising me near the edge!”
“Sorry, shit, sorry,” Eddie says, raising his hands and leaning in for an apology kiss. The basket catches between them, so it’s barely a peck, but it makes Eddie giggle and push him away.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I planned this?” Richie asks, pulling the blanket out first.
“Oooh! And what else do you have in there? If you say ‘that’s for me to know and you to find out’ I will push you off this very steep mountain.”
“Does this count as a mountain? I think it’s a vista.” Richie looks out at the view.
“I don’t think that’ll matter once you’re at the bottom of it,” Eddie says, and the cruelty surprises a laugh out of Richie.
“Yikes, day one and out come the death threats!” He says, and Eddie looks only the slightest bit guilty. He hides it by shoving a hand at the basket in Richie’s arms and pulling out a package.
“Did you… bring… hot dogs?” Eddie asks, staring blankly at him.
“Yeah! Quick and easy,” Richie says, grinning ear to ear. Eddie keeps staring, and it suddenly feels like something has gone very, very wrong.
“How are we supposed to cook these, dude? Are you serious? Is this a joke?” Eddie’s looking at him like he should have known this, like he’s made a huge mistake.
Richie snatches them from Eddie and peers down at the package of hot dogs. When he saw them in the store, it seemed like the most logical solution. He isn’t good at making sandwiches, nor can he do any sort of cooking. But hot dogs are simple, just microwave them in water and… Okay, so he’s an idiot.
Eddie’s watching his revelation, face frozen in confusion, and Richie’s mouth opens then shuts, fear prickling down his spine. Fuck. He told Eddie to trust him, to let him handle this, and refused to tell him the plan. This is why Eddie plans everything. Richie will undoubtedly fuck it up if it’s left to him.
“I mean, there aren’t even buns in… Rich, are you spiraling in there?” Eddie asks, voice suddenly gentle. He presses a hand to Richie’s arm where it’s stuck at his side.
“Yeah, uh,” Richie starts, clearing his throat, “it appears I’m not as good at planning as I first thought.”
“Hit the nail on the head there, I think,” Eddie says, but it’s soft and teasing. Richie rolls his eyes and heaves a breath.
“Wow, I already killed the romance.”
“C’mon, Rich, we’ll look at the view for awhile and then hit that burger place on the way back,” Eddie says, but Richie shakes his head.
“I have the set up for a whole picnic!” He says, lifting up the basket as evidence. Eddie shrugs.
“We can still do it without the food,” he says. It makes Richie even more flustered.
“Why are you being so fucking nice? I totally botched this.”
Eddie exhales, the sigh of a long-suffering husband, hands pressed to his hips.
“Cause I fucking love you, okay? Look at this view. Our cabin is creepy and really fucking cool. You keep looking at me like you want to eat me alive or maybe propose again, and this plug has me wanting you to fuck me against the nearest tree,” Eddie says, huffing a bit. He changed into tighter pants before they left, and Richie can see the line of him, partially hard, along his thigh.
Richie blinks a few times, the useless hot dogs burning a hole in his hand.
“You’re you, so of course you fucked a bunch of shit up, but I’m away from work for the first time in years, and I’m with you, and I’m having fun already cause you make it so easy to tease you about the shit you do. I shouldn’t eat much with the plug in anyway. Now stop making me say it and fucking touch me while we eat some granola bars, man.”
Eddie steals the blanket and spreads it out quickly over the edge of the rock. He takes a seat and Richie almost has a heart attack. He approaches behind him, but sees several layers of rock below his dangling legs and releases a breath.
The racing buzz of Eddie’s words float like a happy swoop in his chest, so Richie crouches down slowly, pressing right behind him, chest to back, thighs bracketing him, hot dogs forgotten. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s stomach. Eddie stays quiet but pulls him in closer.
“Am I the only one scared out of my mind right now? Your legs are hanging off the side,” Richie says. Eddie just laughs.
They have a gradual incline right under their feet, and there’s probably no way they could fall off, but Richie is still impressed with Eddie’s calm. Richie feels a little dizzy at the sight of it, but Eddie’s holding him tightly, so he accepts his fate of potential death as long as this is the last thing he feels. He turns his face against Eddie’s, tracing the shell of his ear with one finger, pressing a kiss there in its wake. Eddie smiles, lines creasing in his face, and Richie wants to absorb him. Pull him closer and fuse into one person, just so he can have this always.
They watch birds sweep across the blue sky, tucked into each other. Every once in awhile, Richie’s fingers itch for the camera he brought, just to document the stunning beauty of both his husband and the vista, but it’s too far a reach behind him. He wants to make his friends jealous, mostly because they all elected to move the fuck out of California, but also because he bagged the hottest Loser, no matter how often and enthusiastically Bev disagrees. Mike doesn’t even bother arguing, usually just slings an arm around Bill’s neck and laughs.
At the end of the day, Richie knows he’s the true winner. None of them know how breathtakingly beautiful Eddie is when they’re alone, breathing Richie’s name, stretched out and hot to the touch, every inch of him singing to be closer.
Richie’s pressing a kiss to the curve of Eddie’s jaw when he shifts uncomfortably.
“Ants in your pants, Spaghetti?” he asks, cupping a hand around Eddie’s face, feeling bold and turned on, knowing it’s the plug.
“It’s pressing right, ugh,” Eddie breathes, and Richie smoothes his hands up his thighs. “It’s right there, and your hands, god.”
“Does it feel good?” Richie asks, heart thudding painfully in his ears. Eddie moans.
“Shit. Yeah. I’m so sensitive,” he says, leaning into Richie’s touch. Richie slides a hand up to grab at Eddie’s dick through his pants. He’s hard, and Richie’s hips twitch, jerking against the small of Eddie’s back. He shifts his feet to divets in the rock for leverage.
“You want more?” Richie asks, fingers dancing over the line of him.
Eddie moans louder. “Yes, god, jerk me off.”
Richie scrambles to undo Eddie’s pants but is immediately caught when he gets through the zipper.
“What the fuck, Eds, is this some kind of chastity belt shit?”
“It’s-they’re tighter underwear to keep the plug in!” Eddie answers, pushing at the black waistband to tuck them right under his erection, pinning his balls down. “Plus I wanna come while you fuck me over that tree, so the pressure will help.” He points behind them at one specific tree, two parallel branches reaching out sideways, and Richie laughs high in his chest.
“Of course you’ve scoped out a sex tree, I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Richie says. He palms quickly at Eddie’s cock, and Eddie bucks back against him.
“The underwear thing was in my presentation,” he mutters under his breath. Richie tightens his grip and this time Eddie jerks forward. Richie presses his free hand to the center of his chest, pinning them together, brain gone white with fear.
“Fuck, Eddie, please do not pitch head-first off this cliff, I do not want to have to explain to our friends,” he says, and Eddie laughs, a rumble through both of them. He plants both of his hands on either side of Richie’s legs and scoots back an inch, now completely snug in the v of his crotch.
“I don’t know, I think that’d be pretty fucking funny,” he says, grinding back as much as he can, then forward into Richie’s hand. Richie hisses, the pressure against his own cock delicious.
Fuck, Eddie is so hot. He’s hanging off the edge of a huge gaping hole in the Earth, a plug up his ass and his dick hard and leaking, and he’s still the one with all the power here. Richie is in the passenger’s seat, fully willing to be the support system.
“What? Me, hard and devastated?” Richie whispers. It hits a little too close to home, but Eddie rolls his hips between Richie’s and moans.
“No, you fucker, you explaining how you killed me on the first day of our honeymoon, but you should get your dick out,” Eddie says all in a rush, arms straining, one hand fisted in the blanket and the other holding tight to Richie’s thigh. Richie groans, leaning back to copy Eddie’s move and push at his much cheaper, much trashier drawstring pants to release his cock. He thrusts it against the line of Eddie’s spine, the sight absolutely scorching.
“Oh god, god, yes,” Richie says, pushing at the hem of Eddie’s shirt so he doesn’t smear come all over it. Eddie reaches back to take it off completely, and Richie throws it behind them. Eddie’s skin is warm and dewy and Richie takes every opportunity to kiss and touch, stroking him faster and rubbing off against his back best he can, small twitches of his hips for a small amount of friction.
“Richie, that feels good, fuck, shit,” Eddie says, his voice thin, “I don’t wanna stop but I need you to fuck me.” Eddie shifts like he’s looking to get up. Richie releases his grip around Eddie’s dick and twists around fast, brain suddenly coming online. The adrenaline makes the reach easier than before, the need to capture this moment more important than the limits of the human body.
“Wait, wait wait, I totally forgot about the camera,” he says. Eddie turns his head, mouth red and bitten, skin flush.
“Is that… a Polaroid?”
Richie scoffs. “It’s actually a Canon, my love. All the better to document you with.”
“Oh god,” Eddie says, but Richie knows he wants it, knows he worries about things getting onto the internet, especially since Richie’s at least pretty famous, and he hears Eddie’s breathing come a little faster at the first snap of a picture. It spits out a thick piece of paper and Richie shakes it in his hand, just for the nostalgia.
The view is ridiculous, the beautiful blue sky in the background, the trees lush and green, a peak of the rippling water below. And in the foreground, Eddie’s arched and heaving back, golden in the light, the cut of his jaw and lip. Richie’s dick is hard and wet, tucked against the middle of Eddie’s spine. This one will definitely not be suitable for the group chat.
“Hurry the fuck up, Rich,” Eddie moans as Richie takes another picture, and he clicks his tongue.
“You are so going to thank me later,” Richie says and snaps one more while Eddie whines. Three feels right. “My dick looks phenomenal.”
Richie sets the camera aside, laying out the pictures to develop and moving to pull Eddie in from the edge, arms around his middle. Eddie laughs and pushes him away, standing up in a hunched line, his cock red and leaking. His eyes are dark so Richie reaches out, kissing him messily, and Eddie sighs. They lean in to each other easily, pants drooping, a huddled couple of morons in love. Richie holds Eddie around the nape of his neck, and Eddie smiles up at him, his hair ruffling in the wind.
Richie feels it poke him right in the ribs, that overwhelming feeling of love. He wells up a little and Eddie sees it. It’s impossible for Richie to hide when he’s got everything he’s ever wanted. Even if it’s just standing here with Eddie, their dicks out in the wind.
“You are so fucking cheesy,” Eddie says, kissing over each of Richie’s eyelids, brushing away the tears, because it’s what he does when he’s feeling sweet but still slinging shit, and Richie knows it means they’re in the same sappy boat.
“Yeah, you’d know that if you weren’t just using me for my body,” Richie says, kissing at Eddie’s forehead and holding him close. Eddie snorts and grabs at him.
“You say that like you’re not rock hard, bud,” Eddie says, then quickly adds, “and please do not make a rock pun.” Eddie’s voice is low and teasing, his hand wrapping around Richie’s cock for insurance, and Richie’s fingers stick in Eddie’s hair. Eddie mouths along the collar of his shirt. “Now you gonna fuck me with this phenomenal dick or what?”
Richie nods and Eddie keeps stroking, backing them up slowly. His grip is steady and sure as it runs over Richie. Richie shivers as they move along, trusting Eddie to walk him backward, and also not really giving a shit if he trips because it all feels way too good. Then his ass hits the bark of a tree, and he’s really fucking glad there’s a layer of fabric protecting him. Eddie swivels around to rummage through the bag, bent over and ass in the air. Richie swallows.
“You wanna sit on my dick?” Richie asks, the idea tugging something in his abdomen. The tree seems sturdy enough to seat him, but Eddie is already shaking his head when he appears with the lube and a towel.
“No, not right now,” he says, smiling, and it makes Richie’s head spin. Eight days ahead of them and he already feels like he’s losing his mind. Good thing he has another week off after this, he’ll need the time to rehydrate and pull himself back together.
Eddie puts the lube on the ground, towel in hand, and leans over Richie to kiss him. Their cocks brush, and Richie moans into his mouth. The branch creaks beneath him.
“Now that I’m sitting here I’m not sure this tree can take it,” Richie says. Eddie ignores him and takes one of Richie’s hands, sucking two fingers into his mouth.
“I really wish I could get my mouth on you,” he says, eyes hot and trained on Richie, fingers sitting on the edge of his lips, “but I am not fucking kneeling here.” Richie laughs, overwhelmed. Eddie grins and leans down to kiss him, hissing when Richie palms at his hip, the smallest touch getting to him. His chest is patchy red and sweaty, he looks floaty and smug and so turned on, towel clutched tightly in his hand, and when he bends slightly to lick around the head of Richie’s dick, Richie wants to swallow him whole.
The angle is awkward and even though Eddie does yoga (“For the flexibility, dipshit, do you know how hard it is for me to get my knees to my fucking ears?”), Richie knows it won’t last long. But Eddie’s mouth is like a soft vice around the head of his dick, and he bobs a couple times, the suction perfect. He comes off with a stunted groan, lifting his head and kissing Richie dirty and wet. His hands are frantic with something, but Richie’s already so gone, the little whimpers deep in Eddie’s chest driving him crazy.
“Shit,” Eddie says, then he’s pulling at Richie’s hand, fingers still slick with his saliva, and leading it to press at where the plug’s base sits under his balls. Richie’s eyes blink open to Eddie’s pants and underwear shoved around his thighs, harder than he’s ever seen him before.
“Baby, god, you need me to fuck you?” Richie circles Eddie’s balls in his hands gently, but they’re already drawn up and tight. Eddie nods, eyes unfocused.
“Yeah, yeah, get the lube so you can reapply when you take the plug out.”
Even in the face of shocking arousal and full body tremors, Eddie Kaspbrak will always follow a set of instructions to the letter. They had talked about this, about him fucking Eddie while he’s full of come, about reapplying lube over the course of the day, about reinserting it multiple times. But now, sitting on this branch and staring up at the real thing, Richie is even hornier than he thought he would be, and that’s saying something.
“Richie,” Eddie says, gripping a hand around Richie’s shoulder. Richie cuts his attention from Eddie’s beautiful cock and the feel of the plug stretching him out and hops to attention.
“Fuckin’ hell, yes, sorry. You’re distracting.” Richie stands up like a shot and picks the lube up off the ground. Eddie moves himself to lean against a more vertical tree branch, back to Richie, wrapping the towel around the bark and hugging it, and it’s so stupid and so cute that Richie’s heart lurches in his chest. Then Eddie turns, a panicked look in his eyes.
“Oh my god, Richie, this is going to ruin my fucking pants. But I can’t take off my fucking shoes! I’m gonna slice my foot open, and I’m certainly not putting my shoes back on after-”
“I brought you another pair of pants, calm down, Super Nanny. And there’s basically a lifetime’s supply of wet wipes and some more towels in the basket, didn’t you see?” Richie asks, and Eddie answers with a gutted moan.
“Holy shit, Richie, get the fuck over here right now and fuck me. Right fucking now,” Eddie says, a desperate burst of air, and Richie pops open the lube and steps in right behind him, crowding him closer to the tree, choking out a wild laugh.
“Yeah? You want it?” Richie says, wrapping a hand all the way around Eddie’s hip, cause he knows Eddie loves to feel how big he is, how completely he can move him around, push and pull him, hold him tight. Eddie nods, resting his forehead against the towel between his arms.
“God yes, fuck, I want you so bad,” he says, and he sounds half out of his mind. Richie feels similarly, and his hands shake as he goes to remove the plug.
Eddie’s right - it’s messy. Richie’s come from the night before slides down the inside of his thigh, and they moan in tandem as Richie reaches to place the plug on another towel spread out on the ground. He lubes himself up and tries to keep it together, but the sight of Eddie’s hole open and waiting, shiny and slick with the evidence of the last time they were here goes to his head. He thumbs at Eddie’s opening and pushes some back in, and Eddie slams a hand against the tree.
“Oh my god, I’m going to die, Richie, I don’t know if I can handle it,” he says, and Richie stops fingering at him to pepper soothing kisses along his back.
“You can do this, Eds, just take some breaths.” Richie runs a hand along Eddie’s spine and feels his ribs expand.
He would usually recommend they stop, he could finish Eddie off with his mouth or hands and clean him up instead, but he knows Eddie wants it, it’s his dirtiest fantasy, something they’ve gotten off just talking about, and Richie’s determined to make this happen for him. He tries not to think too hard about how suffocatingly hot it is that Eddie’s wildest dream is to be plugged up with his come all day, blissed out and dripping.
“Okay, okay. It’s intense, god. I’ve never held off this long and you’re being really fucking cute and I’m losing my mind,” Eddie rambles, and Richie stops petting at him, closing his eyes like he took a punch. Unfiltered shit always flows from Eddie’s mouth when he’s about to get fucked, but this is by far Richie’s new favorite admission.
“Eddie, please tell me you’re ready,” he says, and Eddie takes one more deep breath before nodding.
“Yeah, come on.”
Richie has to crouch a little, bending his knees so the height difference doesn’t get them, and he knows it’ll burn later, worst in his calves, but there’s no way either of them are fit to last long. They’re spooned together, Eddie’s arms looped around the tree branch, practically standing, and when Richie slides in it’s easy and deep. He wraps himself around Eddie, one hand gripping at his hip and the other his cock.
They move slowly, Richie’s thrusting a gradual burn. Richie feels like they’re touching everywhere, even though it’s not possible, but they’re so close, and Richie loves it. Eddie’s a bit boneless, groaning long and low, holding onto the tree for dear life. It doesn’t take long for him to start talking.
“I can still feel you, ah, all over my leg, there’s so much of you, god, I want more,” Eddie says, pushing back onto Richie’s dick, and Richie grinds in deep, pinning Eddie to the tree, their chests crushed together.
“Yeah, you want me to come in you?”
“Fuck, yes, Richie.”
“You didn’t get enough last night?” Richie says, and as the words fall so does his sanity, thrusting up faster, bouncing Eddie on his dick, so wet and sloppy. Eddie’s whimpering as Richie strokes him hard.
“No, shit, ugh, no, do it, come on.”
Richie’s losing control, his movements erratic, and Eddie takes over, pushing his hips down to meet Richie’s, their skin a sweaty slide together. Richie wants to give Eddie everything, can’t stop thinking about how shameless Eddie is, how now that he’s learned to be comfortable and say what he wants he never stops, and sometimes Richie rolls his eyes and sometimes his heart sings and sometimes he comes so hard he blacks out. Depends on the day.
Right now, he’s about to blast off like a rocket, and Eddie won’t stop talking.
“Gonna fuckin’ ride you in that shower, baby, let all your come make it easy, let you watch us in the mirror, get us both clean and then you can come in me again, I can’t get enough, never enough, come on , Rich, give me what I want, know you love me,” Eddie says, hips working hard and voice thin.
Richie’s getting light-headed, the effort of fucking in and out too much, and Eddie’s words threaten to burn him from the inside out. Richie loves this position, fucking Eddie from behind. Even though he can’t see Eddie’s face, watching himself is maddening, his long cock pushing in past Eddie’s rim over and over, and every time he bottoms out, Eddie flinches in his arms. Richie’s hand flies up to dig into the bark of the tree so he can feel a little more grounded.
He slams into Eddie one, two, three more times, and then starts to unravel inside him.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Richie groans, his hand on Eddie’s dick forgotten, coming deep, filling Eddie up again. Even his ears tingle, his vision fuzzy at the edges. His knees almost buckle but he needs to hold Eddie up, needs to keep him there. Eddie waits for him, gives him a break, and Richie kisses at the nape of his neck. He takes a breath and strokes Eddie, still deep inside, still yet to soften, just how Eddie likes.
“Oh god, you fill me up so good,” Eddie says, heat swirling around both of them.
“Nnnngh,” Richie moans, and Eddie twists his hips where they’re still pressed against Richie’s pelvis, soaking in the feel of them together. “You make it easy,” Richie says, loving the feel of Eddie in his hand, Eddie clenched around him, Eddie trusting Richie to hold him, bodies lined up. Eddie’s still clinging to the tree, but he starts to shift on Richie’s dick slowly.
“I’m really close, Rich,” he says, “wanna come while you’re inside me.”
Eddie loves that. Richie’s mouth waters.
“You gonna come so I can plug you back up?” he says, punctuated with a squeeze of his palm around Eddie’s cock. Eddie’s whole body wracks with a shiver.
“Yeah, yeah, shit.” Richie wants to get him there so badly, pumps him a little quicker and lets his mouth run, some semblance of payback.
“Come on baby, come on my cock. Don’t even need to be fucking you, you love it so much, love me deep inside, just like sitting on my dick so much.”
Eddie groans and then breaks, clenching down around him. Richie switches to a fast and desperate flick of his wrist, working Eddie through it until he whines. He always sounds different when he’s strung out, groans all mixed up with a desperate laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s feeling. Richie wants to kiss him, so he holds him tighter instead.
Eddie drapes himself over the tree to catch his breath.
“Fuck, Richie, my god, that was good,” he says, pushing back so their bodies are flush again, and Richie’s suddenly glad he brought a change of clothes for the both of them. There’s come everywhere.
“Yeah?” he says, still high on it.
“Yeah, I’d say you made up for the picnic ten-fold,” Eddie says, and Richie can’t let him go, knows he has to pull out and get the plug but wants to stay there forever. But that is for a different day. The plan.
“Music to my ears. Now hold still, maybe bend over? I have to get the plug and lube, babe.”
Eddie groans but bends at the waist, Richie’s hands still grabbing him everywhere he can reach. Richie bites the bullet and removes himself slowly, a rush of come following, and he keeps a thumb pressed to Eddie’s rim to mitigate the damage. When he finds the plug he has to pull away completely to slather it in lube, just like Eddie taught him. Eddie’s breathing hard as it enters him, but Richie goes slow.
When it’s finally in, Richie stays close, sucking a gentle spot over one of Eddie’s ribs. Eddie hums and moves upright, back into Richie’s hold, and Richie hums back.
“I’m gonna need at least half of those wet wipes,” Eddie says, turning slowly in his grip and hunching his back, like he wants to break out of his skin and crawl away. Richie laughs and kneels to start untying both sets of their shoes.
Part of their deal around the plug was that Richie would do most of the clean up. Eddie finds concentration hard to come by whenever they use it, but mostly, he likes to be taken care of. He always gets breathy and desperate, cuddling closer and pressing in for kisses, the reminder of Richie inside him so present. Richie will take all of it and then some, so he’s practically whistling as he folds their soiled clothing and packs it away.
Eddie watches him, stretched out and leaning against the trunk of their designated Sex Tree, a pleased smile on his face. Richie turns to him after making sure he’s got all their belongings.
“How’s it going, my dear? How does… wait. Did you ever name your plug?” Richie asks, concerned. Eddie shakes his head and squints his eyes.
“What? No, I’m not naming - did you name yours ?” he asks, and Richie scoffs.
“Uh, yeah , Eds. Sonia goes inside me. I’m not going to disrespect her like that.”
Eddie’s face turns beet red.
“That is not fucking funny.”
Richie blows him a kiss.
They don’t end up needing the granola bars, the burger place between their cabin and the failed picnic is cheap and delicious, and both of them devour their cheeseburgers before going back for two more.
Richie spends most of the time suggesting names, and Eddie ignores him until the veins in his neck look tight and dangerous. Eventually he pushes Richie against the car and kisses him until he melts like ice cream, the afternoon sun beating down on the both of them.
Any honeymoon plan worth its salt needs to roll with the punches, and Richie is prepared to be adaptable. He had wanted to stop on the way back, get some groceries so they could spend all day tomorrow inside, since the forecast predicts mostly rain. But Eddie rests a hand on his thigh while they’re driving, eyes pleading, so Richie decides to switch it up and pushes a little harder on the gas.
They pull up to the cabin feeling itchy and grimy, and Eddie leads Richie inside by his hand, fingers interlaced. Richie’s heart is in his throat.
When Eddie brings him to the bathroom and pushes him to sit on the toilet while he strips out of his clothes, Richie sends up a prayer to the universe that he’s such a flexible guy.
Eddie’s quickly fully naked, and already hard, again, and Richie’s asshole clenches around nothing, wanting it inside him. Maybe tomorrow. Eddie will be sore, especially if this impromptu striptease is leading where Richie thinks it is, and Richie will gladly take that torch and run with it.
Later, when Eddie removes the plug from himself for good, straddled over Richie where he sits on the shower bench, Richie feels Eddie’s thick cock slip through his fingers and imagines it deep and wet, fucking into him so good.
He swallows around the lump in his throat and watches as Eddie hovers above him.
“I think three times in 24 hours is a new record, my love,” Richie says, cock now slick with his own come from Eddie’s hole. It runs with the water, but the sight of it is amazing, and Richie takes a breath against the fog of steam. Eddie screws his lips together and lowers himself down, the tip of Richie just touching him.
“What’s with the new, sappy love names?” he asks, voice strained. Richie grins up at him.
“Why, you missin’ the likes of Spaghetti and ‘that dickweed over there’? I can put them back in rotation,” Richie says, but his heart is pounding, and not just because Eddie’s steadily inching onto his hard dick.
“Not exactly,” Eddie breathes. He’s taking his time, and Richie sees the flash of pain in his eyes as he moves. He presses a hand to the small of Eddie’s back, holding him in place.
“We don’t have to do this, sweetheart,” he says, because he really just wants to be good to his man, and Eddie’s eyes hold him gently like he hung the moon. “You did so good today, baby.”
Eddie moans. “Fuck, you’re making me dizzy, stop it.”
“Stop? You need to get off?” He grips at Eddie’s hips but Eddie shakes his head.
“No, no, don’t you dare move, just stop it with the sweet fucking names,” he says, a frustrated exhale, and Richie tries to kiss him, but Eddie hisses. “It’s just my knees. I might not be able to hold myself up for too long.” Richie makes a clumsy effort to rub at them on either side of his thighs. There’s a towel under them on the bench, it’s sopping wet, but it’s better than kneeling on tile.
“Busy morning?” Richie asks, grinning. Eddie kisses him and grunts into his mouth, now fully seated on Richie’s cock. Richie grabs at his ass, spreading his cheeks just a little, finger tracing where they’re connected. Eddie thrusts his tongue deep into Richie’s mouth and starts to ride him.
Eddie’s overstimulated from the plug and it’s his third time being fucked in a short period of time, so every move he makes pushes a little whimper from his mouth. His kissing is hazy. It makes Richie’s lips buzz.
The heavy steam of the shower makes it difficult to see them in the mirror, a side-view of Eddie impaling himself, but Richie’s heady with it anyway. His hair is damp and stuck to his head and neck, and he’s got his stupid glasses on because he wanted to be able to watch as Eddie got his fill. Eddie keeps kissing him, deep and tired, so the view is limited, blurry and tentative, but Richie still fucking loves it. He could look at Eddie til the day he dies, blind as a bat, he’d recognize that ridiculous little body anywhere.
Eddie rolls his hips in Richie’s lap, catching his breath. Richie smiles and Eddie rolls his eyes, burying his head against Richie’s shoulder, biting him on the sharp line of his collarbone.
“Ow, fuck, what’s that for?” Richie asks, grinding up to make Eddie groan.
“For taking care of me,” Eddie says, rough and shaky between them, his head hung low. Richie wants, for one glorious second, to let the wave rising in his chest overtake him, but then Eddie’s pressing up on his knees and Richie slips out of him.
“What’s-” he starts, then Eddie pushes Richie’s knees together and turns around.
“Now fuck me like this,” he says, sitting on Richie’s dick nice and slow, just like he promised earlier. Richie can barely breathe, the moisture and humidity of the shower is all-encompassing, and now his view rivals that of the colorful vista from this morning. He spreads his legs just a little to get some leverage on the tile floor and then pumps his hips straight up into Eddie, hands on his hips.
“Oh my god, Eds,” he says, mesmerized by how Eddie looks stretched around him. He watches himself moving in and out, and when he bucks a little too hard, Eddie slaps a hand to the shower door to steady himself and cries out. Richie’s hips jerk.
“Yeah, put your hands on the door,” Richie says without thinking, growled right into Eddie’s ear, and then Eddie is moaning, words vibrating straight from his chest.
“Yes, sir,” he says, almost like he doesn’t mean to, pivoting a little to follow Richie’s orders.
Richie snaps. He lifts off the bench, still deep inside, and manhandles Eddie around until both his hands are on the shower door, facing the mirror completely. He’s standing behind Eddie again, just like they were over the tree, but Eddie’s eyes are blown, his jaw hanging open.
“Brace yourself,” Richie says, and Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Once Richie really puts his back into it, neither of them can talk anymore.
It’s been a long day, but Richie can’t hold back, and Eddie watches him with flickering eyes, hot and desperate. The mirror gives them both the entire view. Richie can’t fucking think straight, can’t see anything but where his hips meet the curve of Eddie’s ass, can’t hear anything but the circle of his own broken thoughts, a cracked code of mine mine mine mine.
Every fiber of his being loves Eddie. He loves him when they wake up and when they go to sleep, when they’re arguing or melding minds to dissect shit they both love. He loves Eddie’s kisses and his coffee breath and the stupid way he still closes the door when he pisses because “there’s a fucking line, Richard.” He loves every single filthy thing Eddie’s ever said, the way he’ll still fall for Richie’s dumb jokes and the look in his eyes when all their friends are together.
And Eddie is his. It’s honest and it’s real and it pours from him every single moment of his life, crawling from the center of him, pathetic and enthralling and really fucking perfect.
Richie pulls Eddie down on him again and again, snapping his hips against Eddie’s prostate, and Eddie comes on the spot, all over the glass of the door. Richie sees it in the mirror, sees the white press of his fingers on Eddie’s hips and groans. Making Eddie come untouched, even though he’s been stimulated for hours, still fills Richie with a dirty and possessive satisfaction.
He sucks in a deep breath and jackhammers forward twice more before he’s coming in Eddie again.
The ripples of water over both their bodies is soothing in the quiet of the aftermath. Richie holds Eddie up, and even after another orgasm, snaps into caretaker mode as soon as he feels human again. He pushes a soft hand through the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Y’okay, Eds?” Eddie hums, hands still lazily pressed to the door.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, sounding exhausted, “I have no idea how I’m going to walk out of here.”
Richie smiles and kisses at his back, red from the spray of the water.
“Oh, I’ll happily carry you over this threshold, too, Spaghetti,” Richie says, and Eddie is just tired enough to laugh.
Richie doesn’t quite carry him, but he cleans him up, helps him put on pajamas even though it’s 3pm, and plants him on the couch for the rest of the evening. Eddie doesn’t protest, and Richie thinks it’s probably because they’re on vacation, but Eddie’s smiles come easy the rest of the night.
Richie makes them mac and cheese for dinner because Eddie’s far too tired to cook. Eddie eats it in big spoonfuls, wrapped head to toe in a blanket, and Richie presses a kiss to his cheeks every chance he gets.
Later that night, they’re halfway through a movie, a bucket of popcorn almost empty between them, when Eddie turns to Richie with a sly smile.
“You really liked when I called you sir, huh?”
Richie almost chokes on a kernel, suddenly caught at the back of his throat. Eddie chuckles and steals the last piece.
“Thought so.”