"Thanks," Richie said, as if the numbers he'd pulled up hadn't just been plucked from random out of the air, completely arbitrary, except for the parts where they kind of also weren't. "I always liked math." That was true, not that Richie's aptitude for numbers had anything to do with the moment at hand.
It didn't feel nearly as important in comparison to the touching, to Eddie's most bare thighs, the way his knees were pressed into the bed around Richie's hips. Eddie looked good up there, taller than Richie for the first time ever, maybe, and Richie just. Liked looking.
He licked his lower lip, considering the question as if it was actually difficult to answer. And maybe, in some ways, it was. That twenty-five percent hadn't exactly been an out just for Eddie. But -- "Then we focus on the seventy-five instead." He said, careful, even as he brushed his thumb against his inner thigh. "Whatever you want, Eddie." In this, at least, Richie had some restraint.