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Summary
“Is it because I’m learning how to enjoy wines? Does that give you a hard-on? I can work that into my dirty talk - like, if that’s what it takes.”
Eddie closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible,” he says, voice strained. “I’m not embarrassed, it’s just…” He trails off, stares diligently at his coffee. Richie lifts his own mug to his lips and sips loudly.
Eddie glares at him. “You’re a fucking moron,” he says, then goes still, then huffs a breath.
“Maybe,” Richie agrees. Eddie’s giving him butterflies. He sinks back into the chair. “But I’m yours.”
Eddie’s mouth twitches and then he’s smiling, still hunched over his coffee, hands wrapped around the width of it. Richie stares at Eddie’s hands. He is very predictable.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “yeah, you are.”
