Naked. Richie had Eddie Kaspbrak naked in bed with him. It was everything he'd ever wanted and more, if he was being honest. It was the kind of thing that took a high amount of processing power and Richie's brain sort of stuttered out, blanking, and it took way longer to reboot it and get everything running again than he cared to admit. So he just stared, mouth slightly open as he took everything in.
Eddie was kind of fucking fit, for one thing. Like, the guy did sit ups or ran places (more than just away from killer clowns) on a semi-regular basis or something because he just. He just looked really fucking good. Now that Rich had his glasses on, he could see how good he looked, how his thighs were goddamned killer, how he was small, sure, but not really little.
He felt like an idiot for taking his own shirt off now that there was a basis of comparison. Not that Eddie seemed to care, not that Richie could tell, because he was moving in for a kiss and wow. "Uh," Richie said, slow on the uptake but not slow enough to not kiss back, not nearly slow enough to not shift himself closer to Eddie, to lay his hands on his stupidly perfect thighs and trace their way up them. "Thank fuck," he breathed out, because there was no way. No way he wouldn't be able to touch now.