❦♰❀ reddie smut ☿✿☆

14. over and over

by: anon
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Eddie doesn't like it when Richie is away for days or weeks at a time. He really doesn't. He's back to working out of an actual office again, rather than from home, which means he can't just go with when Richie is travelling for shows, and he hates it. For someone who complains about Richie being loud and annoying and distracting, Eddie really fucking misses him the second he's gone.

What Eddie does like is the phonecalls he gets when Richie is away.

He anticipates them now, like clockwork. Is developing a pavlovian response to them, if he's being honest. At around 10pm—midnight in Chicago, where Richie is today—Eddie makes his way to their bed, stepping out of his pants along the way.

He gets the call five minutes later, fingers already trailing up and down his thighs. "Hey," he says.

"Hey." Richie's voice is low, a little hoarse. Probably from spending all day yapping. Or not. "Sorry it's so late. I just got back to my hotel."

"It's not late here. Out partying?" Eddie's fingertips scratch lightly at his inner thighs.

Richie snorts. "Getting a couple drinks with the crew. It's a Thursday night, Eds, we weren't getting hammered."

Eddie hums. "How did the show go?"

"Was alright. Nothing terrible happened which, at this point, is all I ask for. People laughed."

"Well that's a relief," Eddie scoffs. "If no one laughed I would be really concerned about the Netflix deal."

"You just want me for my money," Richie sighs dramatically.

"Well it's definitely not for your personality," Eddie says, voice low, and presses his palm against his lower stomach.

There's a long, weighty pause, and then Richie says, "You in bed?"

Eddie grins. "Yeah."

A soft hum across the line. "Hold on, let me get more clothes off."

Eddie laughs. "When are you gonna be home?"

"Late tomorrow," Richie says, and Eddie can hear the rustling of bedding and clothes. "Land at ten."

"I'll be waiting," Eddie says, and his voice comes out a mixture of teasing and genuinely kind of horny.

Richie's sigh is staticky across the line. "I really fucking miss you."

Eddie feels it like a gentle stab to his heart. "Yeah," he says. And then, because he's already in bed and his hand is already inching inside of his boxers, he adds, "I miss your dick."

Richie laughs, and it sounds like he's lying back down now. "You've been saying that for a week now."

"I miss it every day," Eddie tells him. "All the other dicks around here just don't quite compare."

Richie hums. "Guess I'll just have to come home quickly, then."

"Oh no, take your time." Eddie wraps his hand around his cock—after a week, he gets hard just hearing Richie's voice. It's pathetic. "I've got options."

"Which is why you're on the phone with me, huh?" Richie says, sounding smug.

Eddie smiles, closes his eyes. "You better make it worth my while."

"Oh, I will." Richie's voice is even lower, now, rough around the edges. "Are you naked?"

Eddie would laugh at how blunt he is, but he's not that interested in drawing this out at this point. "No," he says. "I have a shirt on. And boxers."