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Richie kicks the door shut and toes his shoes off at the same time. Or at least, that’s what he was trying to do. Somehow his feet got tangled together, and instead of slipping out of his shoes he hopped and stumbled forward a step only to face plant on the floor.
He’s still there when Eddie walks out of the kitchen and he nearly swallows his tongue when he realizes what Eddie is wearing, or what he isn’t wearing.
“Hey Eds,” he says, clearing his throat to cover the croak. “Where are your pants?”
Eddie glances down at his legs like he’s only just realizing he’s not wearing pants, because leggings are not pants, no matter what anyone says.
“I’m wearing leggings.”
Richie scrambles to his knees and then up until he’s standing and can stare down at Eddie. From this angle the oversized sweater that Eddie paired with the leggings covers the important bits and Richie commands his own important bits to calm the fuck down .
“Those aren’t pants!”
Eddie arches a brow and sticks a leg out, and damn how has Richie never noticed just how nice his legs are?
“My legs are covered. I’d say they do the job just fine.” He straightens and stares at Richie, his brow furrowed in the cute way it gets when he’s thinking too much about something. “Are you okay?”
“What? Me? I’m fine.” Richie waves his hands around, more spastically than strictly necessary, but he can still see the imprint of Eddie’s … “ Totally fine! ” His voice definitely cracks and Eddie arches a brow, his arms crossing over his chest.
“Ooookay.” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced, but he drops the subject. “Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Great! I’m gonna go wash up!” This time Richie manages to get his shoes off and he’s down the hall before Eddie can say anything else.
In the bathroom Richie splashes cold water on his face and stares at his blurry reflection in the mirror. He glances down at his pants, his real pants, and frowns at the tightness.
“Get yourself under control. It’s just leggings and a fucking sweater.” He shakes his head and dries off his face, tugging his shirt down a bit before he joins Eddie for dinner.
And he manages to only stare at Eddie’s ass a little bit.
x
Two weeks later Richie comes home and Eddie is in the damn sweater again. He’s blaming the sweater, but really it’s the leggings that’s killing him. Although the sweater is cute, and Richie wouldn’t mind seeing Eddie in nothing but it. Especially with the way it brushes the tops of his thighs ...
He shakes his head and pushes those thoughts aside. Eddie has to know what that outfit does to Richie, he has to.
“So I was thinking we should go see a movie this weekend.” Eddie is on his belly, sprawled out on the couch. His legs kick in the air to a lazy beat, the sweater just barely covering his ass.
“Oh?”
Richie is staring, he knows he’s staring. He can’t help it.
“Yeah, there’s a couple out that look pretty good.” Eddie glances up at him and Richie jerks his gaze towards his face. Although the smile that flashes across Eddie’s lips tells him that he definitely got caught. “Anything you want to see?”
Richie hums and settles on the couch at Eddie’s feet. Eddie rolls to his back in response, stretching his legs across Richie’s lap and wiggling his toes. The leggings cling to his legs like a second skin, the sweater inching up ever so slightly as he wiggles.
“I’m good with whatever you want.” Richie’s fingers close around Eddie’s ankles and he rubs small circles, eyes tracing the curve of his calf and up to his thigh.
God, I’m horny.
Eddie kicks his thigh and he jumps, jerking his gaze back to Eddie’s face. Eddie’s watching him with a sly smile, eyes dark and glittering.
Richie definitely just got caught staring, again.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Eddie asks, amusement coloring his tone. Richie flushes and drops his gaze to his hands, doing his best to keep his attention from drifting back up.
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t even realize you were talking.”
Eddie laughs and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The sweater pools around his hips and he pulls his feet out of Richie’s grip, sliding into his lap instead. Eddie’s arms are loose around Richie’s neck, the sleeves of the sweater brushing against his skin.
“You seem distracted.”
“What can I say? You’re very distracting.” Richie’s hands settle on Eddie’s hips, the soft yarn squishing beneath his fingers.
Eddie chuckles and drops his mouth to hover above Richie’s, his breath a warm puff of air against his lips.
“Is it the leggings?”
Richie snorts. “You know damn well it’s the leggings.”
Eddie is still laughing when Richie closes the distance between them.
X
A week later Richie comes home with a present for Eddie. Eddie stares at him, and the bag he’s holding, with one brow arched.
“What is that?”
“It’s for you!” Richie thrusts the bag towards Eddie, who cautiously accepts it. Holding it away from his body like it might bite him. “Oh relax, it’s just a sweater.”
Both eyebrows go up now and Eddie pulls the sweater out of the bag. It’s definitely too big, the color a dark green, the yarn extra squishy. Richie had had to go to the women’s section to find it, but he figured Eddie wouldn’t mind.
“You bought me a sweater?”
“Yeah!”
Eddie looks up at Richie, confusion flashing across his face. “Why?”
Richie shrugs, shifting his weight between his feet. “Just ‘cause.”
Eddie purses his lips, a small smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “Just ‘cause?”
“Yeah. Thought you could use another one.”
Eddie looks at the sweater and then back at Richie, his eyes sparkle and he hugs the sweater to his chest with a bright smile.
“I love it!” He surges forward a step to press a kiss to the corner of Richie’s mouth and then turns and disappears into the bedroom, sweater in hand.
Two hours later they’re on the couch together, watching something neither of them really care about. Richie has his arms around Eddie who is snuggled in his lap, smelling faintly like the mint soap he uses.
He's wearing the sweater.
X
Eddie doesn’t say anything until the third sweater. This one is a soft pink, and he stares at it for a solid minute before looking at Richie with a smirk.
“Do you have a sweater kink?”
Richie flushes, throwing his hands in the air. “What? No!”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not a kink! I just-” He flutters his hands uselessy about. “It’s your fault!”
“My fault?”
“Yes! You look so damn cute in the sweaters!”
Eddie flushes, but he laughs and squeezes the pink sweater to his chest. His smile is contagious and Richie steps towards him to wrap his arms loose around his waist, the sweater a barrier between them.
“So, you’re saying you don’t have a sweater kink?” Richie shakes his head.
“Just an Eddie kink.” Eddie snorts and smacks him arm, making Richie chuckle. He drops his mouth to Eddie’s ear, his breath stirring his hair as he drops his voice to a whisper. “Although, if you choose to wear just the sweater … I won’t complain.”
Eddie’s laugh is loud, and he slides his hand up Richie’s neck. He tugs the hair at the base of his neck, and Richie pulls back just far enough to look in Eddie’s eyes. They’re dark and heated, and they make Richie’s insides turn to mush.
“I think that can be arranged,” Eddie murmurs against his mouth.
That night, Eddie wears the pink sweater.
And nothing else.