Fucking impatient -- impatient to fuck. Same difference. And maybe that was a trait that wouldn't stick -- Richie was a romantic guy and he liked the idea of lazy make outs for hours or at least until someone got bored or chafed but, well. He had just kind of come back from the dead. He was pretty sure he was allowed to have some raw, hurried, fucked up emotions about it.
Anyway, they'd waited long enough, hadn't they? Wasn't thirty years plenty patient?
Richie got the fingers of his free hand into Eddie's hair -- and lost track of the concept of time when Eddie got to really focusing up. It was almost a little embarrassing that he cared less about his grip on his own cock than he did chasing down that absolute zing of a shock of pleasure that Eddie got to pressing at. He offered up some words of praise -- something validating, no doubt, but he was pretty sure his voice had turned into alphabet soup; messy, useless and not really spelling much out.