So. This is just a really quick, whipped together thing to provide a few minutes of entertainment while we're all...In lock down? I hope it helps a little? There's absolutely no editing or anything at the moment, I've written this over the past hour and thrown up.

Disclaimer: The title comes from Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood and the frat house in this is named after 22 Jump Street. Lol.

31/03/2020 - Edit-ish :)

Richie Tozier wasn't sure how long he had been crushing on the tiny cheerleader with big brown eyes and this habit of talking at double speed all the time and who always seemed to wear these high waisted shorts in a variety of colours and material that made Richie's eyes roll back, and he wasn't sure how many nights he had spent in his frat brothers bedrooms whining about wanting to be noticed, but things were finally going in the right direction.

About two months ago, Eddie Kaspbrak actually acknowledged that they shared a class together, occasionally lifting an eyebrow and the corner of his glossy lips twitching as he glanced briefly in his direction, and then six weeks ago he'd actually sat next to him in said class.

Things were great.

Eddie was a cheerleader in the adorable, bratty, I-Want-All-Your-Attention kind of way, and he had become fast friends not too long ago with Beverly Marsh, who was a cheerleader in the punk, lesbian, Fuck-The-Man kind of way, and Beverly just so happened to be Richie's soulmate, connected when they were two years old.

Beverly had found it hilarious when she found out her new friend was the same Eddie was the 'reallyreallyreallyreallyreallyprettyboy' with a penchant for high waisted shorts that Richie had spotted around campus multiple times, and then she had said he had just joined the cheerleading squad this year, which was how she met him, but it sounded like he'd been dancing for a while, so he was good.

Their universities sports team was terrible, and the cheerleading squad was only marginally better, but Richie with one of his brothers in tow—Bill Denborough had a puppy dog crush on Beverly despite the fact he knew it wasn't going to go anywhere and he could usually persuade Stanley Uris if he promised to sit through one of his weird biopics later on—had never missed a game.

And Beverly was right.

He was good.

They had recently all become friends, a group of them, including Ben Hanscom and Mike Hanlon, and they all got on well, despite how different they were, although they weren't all as tight as each other, so Richie wasn't anywhere near as close to Eddie as he wished he was.

But then in the past two months...Things had been getting better.

Eddie had been sitting by him, then they had actually started messaging, then last week, Eddie had come to their hot dog eating fundraiser and had cheered him on even though he had looked absolutely disgusted, and now tonight, he was at the party.

It wasn't that Eddie avoided frat parties, it was just that he had never come when Richie had invited him...The whole three times that Richie managed to stutter out an invite.

But tonight, Richie had asked as they were walking out of class and Eddie and looked up at him from under his eyelashes with a little purse of his lips, a calculating expression on his face, before he had shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head in a confusing combination.

"Maybe," he had hummed out.

And Eddie was here.

He was wearing brown ankle boots, a loose grey cropped shirt that bounced around and then a pair of high waisted denim shorts that clung to his ass and his hips and his tiny waist and they were ragged with missing strips and Richie was almost drooling.

The high waisted shorts were going to be the death of him, they really were.

Eddie came over with Beverly, carrying a red solo cup in his hand, and he just slotted in next to Richie as though he belonged there, as if he had always been there, and Richie had frozen for a second before a goofy grin spread across his face and he couldn't help but reach up to play with the brim of his snapback.

Beverly was talking about an Japanese transfer student with purple hair and a lot of eyeliner who had just arrived that she had been flirting with, and Stan looked as bored as ever, and Richie was...All about Eddie.

It had to be the first party since Richie had become a fully fledged member of Zeta Theta Psi that he had barely finished a second cup of beer.

And then they were dancing, and Eddie was laughing and tossing back his hair and grinding his gorgeous little ass against Richie's lap, and when Richie tentatively put his hands on Eddie's hips, Eddie let him, sinking a little further into his touch.

The whole frat house smelt like beer and weed and smoke, and usually, Richie loved it.

He loved everything about his frat, he loved the noise and the mess, it was completely opposite to what his home life had been—everything had to be quiet and in order and it was cold and unloving—because while this place was chaotic, it was overflowing with people that he cared about and who cared about him, but right now, he just wanted to get away from it all so that he could have Eddie all to himself.

So he leaned in, somewhere between a Drake remix and an old 2 Chainz song, taken in a deep, nervous breath, and pressed his lips against Eddie's ear.

"Did you want to come up to my room?" He asked softly, only loud enough to be heard by the other boy.

He felt Eddie's shiver.

They left the party, Eddie's smaller hand in his own, winding their way through the sweaty throngs of people, and Richie's cheeks were flushed red as he caught Mike's eye from across the room and saw the knowing smirk on his face.

Yeah, his crush on Eddie was no secret.

Richie shared a room with Stan, but Stan was going to have to find somewhere else to settle tonight as Richie flipped the lock on the door, and when he turned around, Eddie was examining his room, the tidiness on one side that was clearly Stan's and the craziness on the other side that was clearly Richie's.

"You like The Pretty Reckless?" Eddie asked idly, pointing up at a poster on the wall.

"Taylor Momsen has one of the best voices of our generation and she is one of the few females that I like to look at, where can you go wrong there?" Richie joked lightly, and Eddie's lips quirked in a smile, tilting his head to the side.

The room was dark, other than the night light that Eddie had switched on as Richie had been closing the door, and the music was still loud and the ground thumped a little under their feet, but it was easy to ignore with Eddie right there.

"I knew you were watching me," Eddie suddenly said and Richie stopped short, eyes widening. "Months ago, I knew you were watching me," he narrowed his eyes slightly. "I thought you were like every other frat guy, you know, around campus. But...It turns out you and your friends aren't that bad. Kind of great, actually."

"You mean, your friends, Eds," Richie corrected with a smirk, even though he really just wanted to fall to the ground and thank the heavens that Eddie was giving him a proper chance, had said that he was kind of great. "You became friends with a bunch of us frat brothers."

"Don't remind me," Eddie wrinkled his nose, as though in disgust, but all Richie saw was adoration, and then he was leaning down, hovering just above Eddie's lips to give him the chance to stop if he wanted to.

But he didn't.

Eddie lifted himself up to press his mouth to Richie's, and then they were kissing, and Eddie tasted like cheap watermelon coolers and raspberry licorice, and Richie probably just tasted gross, like cheap beer, but Eddie didn't seem to mind as he whimpered against Richie's tongue and his fingers curled into the tank top that the taller man was wearing.

Richie kind of wished that there was a way for Eddie to both keep the high waisted shorts on and to take them off so that Richie could get his mouth on what was underneath, but he guessed that life would only let things be so perfect for him.

He ate Eddie out until he was close to sobbing, and then the cheerleader grumbled under his breath about a denied orgasm and spun around, shoving him down so that he could straddle him, roll on a condom and then slowly fuck himself down on Richie's cock with barely any prep other than Richie's tongue and two of his fingers, teeth and lips mashed together as they rode out their highs together.

It was in the top five greatest moments of Richie's life.

And as Eddie curled up on top of his chest afterwards, sleepily saying that he preferred waffles to pancakes for breakfast with his lips pressed against Richie's neck, that was probably in that top five as well.

Let me know what you think x

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