deercountry inbox.

[measuringdicks]

welcome to the trench chapter of interdimensional hostage bullshit anonymous! unfortunately no one can come to the phone right now because we’re being fucked over by the multiverse again, so leave a message after the beep. we’ll get back to you if we’re still here.

video | voice | text | action

gif from stanleybarbur.

Comments

[measuringdicks]

[muahahahaha

But anyway, after that little bit of bickering, Richie sobers up fast.]

It's just, like, ten minutes. And then I'll be a big ol' bastard who can boost you if you need help reaching the shit they stick on higher shelves.

[Huh, Shiro's coming, is he?]

Yeah, but does he have a pick-up? Not just for the fridge, for the heavier equipment too.

[clussy]

Mmm. Maybe. We'll see what's necessary when we get there, how bout that?

(Compromise? That's what people in relationships did right.)

And if we figure it's a good move we'll do that. We can do pre-recon to even see if anyone's in the building and then figure out a more internal recon or whatever.

(Richie was actually way better at planning this shit than him. Eddie was, ironically, 100% more reckless. He really would have just walked in without a second thought. This is why he wasn't the leader of the group.)

...Though...It is pretty tempting to make you boost me anywhere.

(Strong Man Fantasies.)

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I don't think he has a car period actually now that I'm thinking about it. I think he's one of those freaks who walks everywhere or like ...takes his lion. Wow. I have no idea. But Chloe has a pickup and between that and Christine we should be able to stock up a lot. Smores can pull a lot of weight too. Like more than you'd think.

[measuringdicks]

Yeah I think we can manage that. And if Shiro's gonna be there I probably won't even need to do it. We can make him check.

[What's a father figure for if not to prod first into dangerous situations, right? Anyway, for all that Richie likes to play it down, when push comes to shove he's not too shabby at coming up with a plan.]

I'd have to boost you anyway even if you weren't tempted! You're fun-sized, I oughta carry a stepstool to this heist just so you can reach the good shit.

[He says, suffering through a growth spurt.]

Okay, so our options are: wagon, Shiro's lion, Christine, Chloe's pick-up, and your big-ass wolf. [Pause.] Would S'mores be okay with it if we like, got her in a harness like one of those sled dogs so she could pull heavy shit? Or do I have to bribe her with a steak, because like—I've only got burger steaks.

[clussy]

Exactly.

(Eddie's relieved for that option.

His mouth pinches up at the corner into a bit of a smirk-smile.)

I don't wanna break your poor back. I might be fun-sized, but it's not like you're out there carrying me around bridal-style without losing your breath after a minute.

(Okay, exaggeration, but what is the point of a boyfriend if one does not roast him.)

You can probably reach most top-shelf shit by now. You're starting to get freakish big.

(In speaking of that growth spurt. Eddie was chugging slowly along and he knew he was about to tap out at his full potential any inch now.)

Dude - yeah, totally. When I got her as a puppy she came from like this unique breed of snow dogs and they were all obsessed with that shit. She loves pulling stuff around with a harness. You pretty much just put the harness on her and direct her and she'll know what to do.

[measuringdicks]

I cart Venkman around on my shoulder all the time, you think you're any fucking heavier than he is? You? [He gives an exaggerated snort of laughter.] Every time I put food in front of him it's just gone in a minute flat, if anything he's heavier than you. My back can fucking handle you.

[No it can't.]

Starting to? Eddie, I'm already fucking huge. Bigger than ol' Milton Berle, even. [...he's not talking about height.]

Cool! So we can just rig a wagon up to the harness and point her to the Goodbye Home, and voila, we have extra appliances.

[clussy]

So you're saying I coulda been riding you around town instead of a car? I would have upgraded weeks ago. (There's some sort of layered joke there probably.)

You'd snap in less than five minutes.

(He definitely doesn't buy that.

Eddie raises his brows at Richie's proclamation and then snorts loudly.)

Oh yeah, I'm sure you are.

(He'll be merciful this One Time with him.)

That sounds like a pretty rock-solid plan, yeah.

[measuringdicks]

[In the most saccharine voice possible:] Oh, sweetie-bumps, all you had to do was ask. This ride’s open alllll day.

[No it’s not, but he couldn’t resist the double entendre.]

I definitely am. Just ask your uncle.

[Well. At least he’s not making your mom jokes anymore, but this is barely any better.]

Yeah? [He brightens up on being told his plan is rock-solid, actually. Attention is great and all, but positive attention feels damn good to have.] We’d just need a big enough wagon for a refrigerator. And ropes to tie on it so it doesn’t fall off.

[clussy]

(God damn it. He gives a long, miserable groan.)

Richie, if I sat in your lap in even a slightly suggestive way your brain would be obliterated. Your sex jokes don't have the same weight when I'm dating you and know for a fact that you're like-

(He wiggles his fingers.)

A total prude.

(As if Eddie were any better. See he'd feel bad about saying this but Richie's asking for it, okay. With fucking terrible jokes.)

Y'know the least you could do is upgrade to sex jokes about me. Your boyfriend. Instead of some crusty old dude. Like isn't there some weird appeal for dudes like you who like objectifying the hell out of their significant others?

(Eddie that idea's not any better either. What the hell, guys.)

Yeah. (--Cute.) Let's worry about all the medical shit first, genius, and then we can figure out the fridge stuff. We should probably put the fridge in Chloe's truck. But we probably still need ropes.

[measuringdicks]

[Sure enough, Richie splutters on the other end of the line. Somewhere in the background, there's a distant cooing noise and the sound of a plastic bag ripping right open. At least Venkman's entertained.]

I don't—[How to talk about it? He sighs.] When it comes to the dirty stuff, I need...I dunno, distance. Like, I can joke about your uncle's dick because I've never even met the guy, if he exists, [and he could joke about Bev doing half the school when he wasn't friends with her,] but I can't joke about, say, Varian's, because we're friends. It's not as funny if I know somebody and I know better things to joke about with them.

Also, if we're being serious here, if I ever do see you even half-naked at any point in time my brain would melt right out of my ears and I just wouldn't be able to respond, I'm not gonna lie. And I'm supposed to fuckin' joke about the idea?

[He can barely approach it without his brain turning into a pile of mush! He cannot make dirty jokes about Eddie.]

Oof, yeah, okay, you're right. What kinda medical shit do we need? Painkillers, anesthesia, surgical instruments?

[clussy]

Yeah, fine.

(Eddie kind of got it only not entirely because what was the point.)

Not gonna lie I would be pretty pissed if you were going around talking that way about other guys we did know, yeah. (Eddie could barely handle Connor Bowers existing. Lord knows he would combust on the spot if he had to suffer some dumb dick joke about a mutual friend.

Eddie scoffs outright at the idea of Richie dying on the spot. It felt oddly good to know he might have that kind of sway over him. But some part of him realized maybe he wanted the crude jokes thrown at him. But he has no idea how to word that without sounding weird.)

Well. Expect me to keep calling out your dumb sex jokes then.

(That would have to be enough.)

Probably all the above. I definitely need way more needles. And harnesses. I’ll make a list.