Richie didn't necessarily think himself attractive. But he also didn't think, right now, what he looked like mattered so much. So long as Eddie seemed happy with him (which he did), Richie wasn't going to dwell on the fact that he had a bit too much forehead or that he was just softer than Eddie was.
There was no real point wondering what past them would have gotten up to in their teenage years, Richie supposed. Just every now and again he thought about how some smaller and more awkward (if that was fucking possible) version of himself would be losing his damn mind if he knew that this was something he'd eventually be able to have.
You know. If he ever got around to taking. Not that he and Eds weren't doing a bang up job of the attempt right now. Richie didn't feel overly nervous, not this second. He just felt good. Warm. Wanted by Eddie as much as he wanted. "I want everything," he said, raw and honest, and pulled at Eddie's waist to get him closer yet even as Eddie went to town making a mark on him which -- yeah. Yeah, he'd wanted that. Richie made a noise, low and a little pornographic in its approval. It felt good, just a little tiny hurt before it was pressure and wet and Eddie's fucking mouth.
"C'mere, c'mere," he found himself saying, breathless and made a little dumb by Eddie basically just existing in his atmosphere, but he was tugging anyway, until Eddie was straddling his lap again, because it felt important. He wanted to be properly face to face. "I'm going to touch your dick," he declared, "which, if I haven't said yet, is really kind of great looking. Like, A+. Congratulations for having such a fantastic dick."