Reddie Oneshots

richie's kinda insecure (reassurance)

lol i always read shit abt depression and insecurities lol i like to feel not alone

verrrrryyyy cute tho (and a lil sexy)

from tumblr by stellarbisexual

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Richie nearly ejects off the couch at the sound of Eddie's voice by the front door.  ("Rich?")  He'd gotten Eddie a spa gift certificate for his birthday, since he'd said he'd always wanted to try it–and grad school's been stressing him out to the point of near insanity.

"Baby!  How was it?" he crows, turning the corner into the foyer and smiling at the far-off, dreamy look on his boyfriend's face as he lets his coat fall off the ends of his hands and onto the floor.  Richie laughs.  "You look drugged."

Eddie turns to him, his gait all floaty, that relaxed smile plastered to his sweet face.  "Hi, gorgeous."  He throws his arms over Richie's shoulders and pulls him down for a slow, open-mouthed kiss. 

Richie's face flushes, and he all but squeaks into Eddie's mouth.  He nuzzles their noses together as they part.  "Mm.  Remind me to send you to the spa every fucking day for the rest of our lives."

"You wanna make me your kept man, huh?  I'll quit school, buy a pair of Lululemon yoga pants, and call it a day."

"I'm definitely into you in yoga pants."  His hands drift down his boyfriend's sides and underneath his soft henley, thumbs caressing the lines of his flat stomach.  "Did you get a treatment?  How was your treatment?"

They'd spent much of the last few weeks lowkey making fun of the spa menu and working the phrase treatments and experiences into their lives as often as possible. 

"I got a hot stone massage," Eddie purrs, hands pushing gently through the hair at Richie's nape, "and a pedicure."  He brings his mouth right next to Richie's ear, finishing with a whisper, "And I got waxed."

An electric coil starts buzzing in the pit of Richie's stomach.  He's breathless.  "What?  ...Where?"

They'd spent almost as much time talking about the possibility of Eddie getting something waxed.  Richie hadn't been against it, per se, but, as he'd explained to Eddie, he thinks his boyfriend is totally fucking perfect from head to toe just the way he is, thank you very much, right down to the peach fuzz at the small of his back.  (Richie loves that peach fuzz–and anything else Eddie has to offer him.)

Eddie keeps his mouth right where it is, whisper still intact.  "See for yourself."  He guides Richie's hands down the back of his sweatpants.  He pulls back a little, watching Richie's face as he experiences the closest thing he's ever felt to an aneurysm. 

Richie shivers, his legs jelly, nearly falling to the fucking floor as his fingers glide over the top of Eddie's ass, a span of skin so familiar to him made suddenly new in its smoothness. 

"It's still a little bit irritated," Eddie explains with a coy smile, "but that's normal.  It'll be perfect tomorrow."

"It's so soft," Richie says, fingers creeping down to gently palm both cheeks. 

"It didn't really hurt, either," Eddie says, pressing a kiss to Richie's jaw.  "I'm not supposed to let you play with it for at least twenty-four hours."

Richie whines outright at that.  "Ba-by.  Seriously?" 

"Esthetician's orders.  I'm not supposed to shower, either."

"No fun at all, then."

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.  "We can still have fun.  You can still have lots of fun."  He palms Richie's face, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.  "I feel very well taken care of... and I'd like to take extra special care of you, as a thank you."