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Eddie had been reading for a whole five minutes before it began. It had first started with a long finger poking the silvery scar on his cheek and had only escalated from there. Currently a mop of dark curls was trying to worm its way under his arm and into his lap, occasionally causing the book he was reading to jerk and shake. He tried to sound annoyed by the distraction but his voice came out more fond than anything else. “What the fuck are you doing, Trashmouth?”
Richie froze before slowly turning his head to smile innocently at Eddie. His legs dangling off of the arm of the couch, one long arm curled over Eddie’s knees. He was too big to be doing this but that never stopped him before. It brought back memories of Richie squeezing himself into the hammock alongside Eddie, his gangly limbs causing it to rock ominously before he settled. A soft contented purr slipped out when Eddie began to run his fingers through Richie’s hair. “Nothin’ just trying to get comfortable.”
“Get your disgusting mop off of my lap. Why are you so sweaty? This feels gross. Oh god is that a bug?” Eddie’s voice held no real malice as he continued to card his fingers through Richie’s curls. He missed being this close to someone. He never did this for Myra nor did she ever ask. It felt nice and intimate. Intimate in a way he had never felt outside of sex. The list of things he would do for Richie was miles long, so long that it was easier to write a list of things he wouldn’t do for Richie.
He could feel Richie slowly starting to relax as he started to lose the fight to stay awake. When the other man’s breathing evened out he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. He smelled like left over bourbon and stale cigarette smoke which was expected after a restless sleep the night before. Eddie would stay like this as long as he needed if it meant he could rest. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you Richie, I love you.”