[ eddie's nervous laughter brings a grin to his face so large that it nearly splits his face in twain (wouldn't put it past this weird fucking town, honestly). it's always a good time for him when his dumb jokes actually manage to make eddie laugh, because the sound is so sweet and doesn't happen nearly as often as he thinks it should.
normally eddie would have told him to stop with the pet names by now, but he's hardly going to complain that he hasn't yet. between that and how much the other boy has been touching him since they saw each other, it very nearly feels like permission. ]
Edward Llewellyn Kaspbrak!
[ richie gasps loudly, pulling one hand out from eddie's careful grasp to press it over his mouth like a wilting southern belle taken to the vapors. he tries on a voice to match the gesture, but it really just winds up sound like a falsetto version of his british officer. ]
Such colorful language is hardly becoming of a gentleman, young sir.
[ honestly he'd been planning to make some joke about eddie being "fast" since those woody fucks were so goddamn slow, but he can hardly pull out that shit now that eddie's gone and upstaged him.
and anyway, he gets pretty distracted when eddie pulls the bifocals out, big and clunky and so old fashioned that richie immediately has flashes of eddie wearing those things still has an old man, and his heart slips a beat at the thought of still being around to see eddie get to that point.
he let's out a soft, heartfelt sigh at the image before he can stop himself, but manages to transform the sound into a hiss of pain halfway through when eddie starts to dig into his hands with the tweezers. christ, why were splinters so damn painful, anyway? the wood around the kissing bridge was so old and soft that even if he'd been in the right state of mind to be careful it would have been impossible to get away without at least a few, but this is honestly ridiculous.
at least it means that eddie is more or less holding his hands now. the faint, stinging pain of his treatment hardly even registers in the back of richie's mind in comparison.
once eddie's all done and releases his hands, richies clenches them experimentally between them, pressing his fingertips down into his palm with careful pressure to check for any splinters that might have dodged eddie's eye. ]
All good, Doctor K. You oughta make a career out of this. Put all that paranoia to good use.
no subject
normally eddie would have told him to stop with the pet names by now, but he's hardly going to complain that he hasn't yet. between that and how much the other boy has been touching him since they saw each other, it very nearly feels like permission. ]
Edward Llewellyn Kaspbrak!
[ richie gasps loudly, pulling one hand out from eddie's careful grasp to press it over his mouth like a wilting southern belle taken to the vapors. he tries on a voice to match the gesture, but it really just winds up sound like a falsetto version of his british officer. ]
Such colorful language is hardly becoming of a gentleman, young sir.
[ honestly he'd been planning to make some joke about eddie being "fast" since those woody fucks were so goddamn slow, but he can hardly pull out that shit now that eddie's gone and upstaged him.
and anyway, he gets pretty distracted when eddie pulls the bifocals out, big and clunky and so old fashioned that richie immediately has flashes of eddie wearing those things still has an old man, and his heart slips a beat at the thought of still being around to see eddie get to that point.
he let's out a soft, heartfelt sigh at the image before he can stop himself, but manages to transform the sound into a hiss of pain halfway through when eddie starts to dig into his hands with the tweezers. christ, why were splinters so damn painful, anyway? the wood around the kissing bridge was so old and soft that even if he'd been in the right state of mind to be careful it would have been impossible to get away without at least a few, but this is honestly ridiculous.
at least it means that eddie is more or less holding his hands now. the faint, stinging pain of his treatment hardly even registers in the back of richie's mind in comparison.
once eddie's all done and releases his hands, richies clenches them experimentally between them, pressing his fingertips down into his palm with careful pressure to check for any splinters that might have dodged eddie's eye. ]
All good, Doctor K. You oughta make a career out of this. Put all that paranoia to good use.