It was both blessing and shame that Eddie moved away from straddling him -- blessing, because that got those little shorts all the way off (even if Richie loved them, pantsless was still the better deal in this instance), shame because even if it hadn't lasted long, Richie had really been enjoying the sturdy weight of Eddie where he'd been.
Still, Rich scrambled up a little to sitting, looking rumpled but also like there was some kind of revelation happening here. He felt around with his right hand at the edge of the bed and then further on the nightstand for his glasses because he wasn't going to look away from Eddie for his glasses even if finding them faster might have helped with the whole looking thing in general.
He found them, eventually, and pushed them onto his face, wishing for steadier hands in a moment like this. "Eds," he said, smiling like an absolute idiot because Eddie was cute as hell. He was always so fucking cute. But he was sexy too. "I'll do whatever you want." And that was true. That had always been true -- even if he'd argue and bitch and have a war about it first, he'd always do whatever Eddie wanted. "But you shouldn't threaten me by trying to keep that Winnie the Pooh look, you know, like somehow your dignity is being preserved." Richie's grin was sharp, even as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it over the edge of the bed.