Richie would get to it -- later. And maybe a little jokingly (but that didn't mean he didn't mean it, either, it just softened blows for him, made things easier to say), but he'd definitely bring up how hot Eddie was and once he got started, he'd probably never stop.
And sure, maybe he'd run. It wasn't like Richie was completely averse to working out or anything. He didn't actively do it, but he never really sat still anyway, so it was safe to say he was burning off whatever calories he needed to just by pacing around and gesticulating wildly, most days. But it wasn't like he really had a reason to say no.
"You're blinder than me," Richie said, but it was teasing and light, not really a protest. Rich was entirely too focused on running his hands over Eddie's hips, hyper focused on the little V dip going there, basically just inviting Richie to look at his dick. It was fucking mesmerizing. He didn't know what the fuck was wrong with him for not just touching that yet, maybe getting his mouth all over that whole beautiful situation.
Forty year old Richie was an idiot and an asshole coward, he couldn't help but think. Because 16 year old Richie? He'd be in fucking PlowTown by this point, no doubt.
Richie squirmed then, his hands going to undo his own jeans, the zipper and tug them down because he didn't know what he fuck he was waiting for, didn't know why he was still sitting around half clothed like some kind of jackass when Eddie was sitting here, sucking and kissing at his shoulder like a man on a mission all while completely naked. "Leave a mark," he said then, pleaded practically.