He watches Richie kneeling on the sweater on the floor, his fingers working at Eddie's jeans, and Eddie's stomach clenches with anticipation. It's nerve-wracking that Richie doesn't know the answer because that means that neither of them do, but he doesn't feel frustrated about it. Nervous excitement is sparking through his entire body and then Richie looks up at him from down on his knees, and before Richie pulls his pants down, Eddie's cock is already twitching with need just from that visual alone.

"I can stand," he mumbles dumbly as he feels himself springing free of the confines of clothes. Sudden terror jolts through him at the idea of someone walking in on them now in search of a place to have a cigarette in peace. Then that terror spikes again at the idea of Beverly walking in on them with Richie on his knees and Eddie with his pants around his ankles.

He's rooted to the spot anyway with nervous energy and when Richie's fingers curl around his bare erection for the first time, no underwear or jeans in the goddamned way, his knees wobble a little. Eddie clutches the back of the chair to steady himself as he lets out a shuddering breath and swallows back a moan in fear that it might be too damn loud. His chest is already heaving and he can't stop watching Richie's hand moving, skin on skin, over his cock.

"Shit..." he breathes. "Shit, Rich...that feels so good, shit..."