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Eddie’s still tossing and turning in the inn’s uncomfortable bed when a knock at the door sounds, startling him completely awake. For a moment he freezes, wondering who the fuck would be coming by to visit at nearly three in the morning, but then he remembers that four of his friends are in the same building. It’s probably one of them, he reassures himself, sighing with some relief. Another knock comes, this one almost hesitant, and he whisper-shouts, “Sorry, give me a minute.”
He pushes himself up and out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he carefully makes his way through the dark and to the door. He flicks on a lamp before inching the door open and peering out just in case it is a stranger. “Who–?”
“Did I wake you?” Richie asks softly. The usual shit-eating grin is on his face, but the sight of him makes Eddie’s heart jump despite it. He’s still not entirely used to seeing him after all this time, and especially not this late, and then he remembers just how late it is and his heart jumps again. There’s something weirdly intimate about seeing his childhood crush standing in his doorway at three a.m. – and, no, that thought is even weirder, better force that one away.
“No, I couldn’t sleep,” Eddie admits after a second, then adds quickly, “Oh, sorry, come in! If you want to, that is.” He opens the door wider, flashing a smile that probably looks as awkward as it feels.
“No, Eds, I came by to just stand here and listen to you snore,” Richie says, though the heavy sarcasm in his voice loses some of its bite thanks to the still-present grin. He edges past Eddie into the room and looks around, nodding considerably. “Nice, nice. For the Derry Inn, anyway.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves Richie playfully as he shuts the door. “Shut the fuck up, I don’t snore. And don’t call me Eds,” he adds as an afterthought, ignoring the little voice in his head that whispers But you like it, so what’s the problem?
“Sorry, Eds.” Richie laughs when Eddie just huffs and pushes past him to the bed so he can sit down, because he’s still exhausted even if he can’t actually sleep yet.
“What do you want, Richie?” he asks, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Figured you’d be wanting to get as much sleep as possible after… you know, today.” That’s what he wanted to be doing right now, but of course Eddie isn’t getting what he wants.
Well. Mostly, at least. He’d be lying if he said Richie’s spontaneous visit was unwanted.
Something in Richie’s face seems to close off at that and Eddie winces, opening his mouth to apologize, but Richie beats him to it. “I can’t sleep, either,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the room’s far wall. “I don’t think any of us can, really. It’s just…” He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks at Eddie imploringly, and Eddie’s heart twists a little because he gets it. He does. Today’s been hard on all of them, but he honestly thinks Richie’s gotten the worst of it all. “You… you get me, right? It’s not just me?”
“Yeah, Rich,” he whispers, sighing and closing his eyes. He’s so tired. “I get you.”
They’re both quiet for a few moments. Eventually, Eddie feels the mattress dip and then a hand comes to rest on his back. It’s warm, comforting, and Eddie sighs again, but this time it’s in contentment.
“You alright?” Richie asks softly, rubbing his back slowly. “I didn’t mean to get all sad and shit on you.”
Eddie coughs a laugh and shakes his head. “No, I’m alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just… wish this wasn’t happening. I know we all are, but I just…” He groans and runs a hand through his hair, all at once anxious and upset and still so worn out. “I don’t want to be here, Rich. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really fucking glad to see all of you again–” He pauses to smile a little at Richie, who’s just staring at him, intently and silently, waiting for him to finish. “–but it’s under shitty circumstances. I just… I wish I could leave.”
“Me too,” Richie says. He’s still staring at him, and maybe, if they were just having a casual conversation about literally anything else and they were in another town, on another day, away from all of this shit, Eddie would be flushing under his gaze, smiling and leaning in and –
But no. They have something more important to focus on. Maybe not right this second, but it’s still there, metaphorically surrounding them, a constant thought at the back of their minds.
So, instead, Eddie drops his gaze and says, “Maybe we should try and sleep. You’re welcome to stay and take the bed, I can–”
“What?” Richie says, sounding so affronted that Eddie starts to panic, thinking Maybe I overstepped some sort of boundary, fuck fuck fuck what now, but then Richie adds, “No, I’ll take the floor, dumbass, this is your room!”
Eddie takes a moment to regulate his breathing. Jesus, sometimes I wish he’d speak even faster than he already does. “I’d feel bad if you slept on the damn floor, though, Rich! It’s a public inn, it’s probably crawling with fucking germs and bugs and shit.”
And yet you’re offering to sleep there, his mind murmurs.
Shut the fuck up, he thinks back.
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn't sleep there, idiot,” Richie huffs. “Look, how about we compromise and just – share? We’re grown men, we can handle it, right?”
Eddie is fairly certain his brain short-circuits for about two seconds. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and nothing comes out except for, “Uh.”
The silence is horribly awkward. Eddie kind of wants to die.
“Was that too much?” Richie finally says, dropping his hand from its place on Eddie’s back and making him feel suddenly cold all over. Richie’s grinning again now, but Eddie can tell immediately that it’s forced. “Sorry. I can go back to my room, if that’s more comfortable for you. I’ll just–”
The thought of Richie leaving Eddie to sleep alone is an unpleasant one, so he cuts in quickly and says, “No, wait, sorry, I’m just – um. Yeah. That’s – that’s fine.”
Richie looks at him carefully, and Eddie’s suddenly aware that his face practically on fire. He resists the urge to hide behind his hands and just stares back, hoping his expression conveys what his words clearly can’t. “You sure? I don’t wanna weird you out or anything.”
“Jesus, Rich, just lay down,” he snaps, and wow his face must actually be in flames right now, it’s so hot. This is ridiculous, I’m a fucking adult who should not be getting flustered over the idea of sharing a bed with Richie fucking Tozier, fucking hell. “Or I’ll just – just kick you out.”
Richie laughs then, and it’s such a genuinely amused sound that Eddie feels slightly better about the whole thing. “Demanding,” he mutters, grinning again, and Eddie shoves him nearly off the bed, feeling more flustered than he probably should at his age.
“Shut the fuck up, Trashmouth, and go to sleep,” he snaps, but Richie’s answering grin and wink washes away any real anger he has.
“Alright, alright, Eds, give me a minute.” He stands up and tugs off the shirt he was wearing, tossing it uncaringly onto the floor. Eddie drops his gaze quickly, wondering dimly if he’s about to spontaneously combust. Probably. “Lights on or off?”
“Off,” he manages, busying himself with sliding under the covers and claiming the left side of the bed. Once his head hits the pillow, he hopes that he’ll just immediately pass out, but no such luck.
He stares at the ceiling as the lamp goes off and Richie makes his way to the other side of the bed. The covers lift and then the mattress dips, and Eddie knows that Richie’s now right there beside him. His heart starts pounding too hard again in response. Is he going to have a heart attack? If he goes into fucking cardiac arrest thanks to Richie Tozier, he doesn’t think he’ll ever live it down.
“Eds?” Richie whispers a few seconds later, and Eddie turns his head automatically. He can barely make out Richie’s face in the darkness of the room, but maybe that’s a good thing. “Why’re you so far away?”
Jesus, and maybe it isn’t. Richie sounds like he’s asking a serious question, but Eddie wishes he could see his expression more clearly, just to be sure. “I’m literally a foot away from you,” he hisses back. “If I were any closer, we’d be lying on each other.”
“Exactly, so come over here,” Richie says, and Eddie sort of freezes where he is because did he hear that right? Is Richie… saying what it sounds like he’s saying? Or is Eddie projecting?
Fuck it. It’s three in the morning and he’s sharing a bed with the man that he still has feelings for even now. Might as well just fucking ask.
“Rich,” he says quietly, and he hears rather than sees Richie shift. “Am… am I being a dumbass right now, or–”
“No,” Richie responds.
Eddie takes in a quick breath and exhales, shakily.
“Okay.”
Carefully, he slides over on the bed until his arm is pressed up against Richie’s. The warmth Richie radiates hits him hard now that he’s so close, and it’s actually very calming. “This better?” he whispers, almost silently.
“Almost,” Richie murmurs. He rolls over onto his side and curls his other arm around Eddie, pressing his palm flat against Eddie’s back so he can hold him better, assumingly. Eddie reciprocates, except he slides both of his arms around Richie, hugging him tightly. He pushes his face into Richie’s shoulder and feels his body tremble with quiet laughter. “This okay?” he asks, dropping a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head.
Eddie’s never felt more okay in his life. “No, this is terrible and I hate it,” he says flatly, and then grins when Richie laughs again, this time a little louder. “Shut up, you’re gonna wake the whole floor.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Richie releases him for a second to tug the blanket up over them a little more. “Go to sleep, Eds.”
“Stop calling me that,” he murmurs, but he’s still smiling as he finally drifts off to sleep, intent on forgetting everything for a few hours except for how it feels to be in Richie’s arms.