Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Richie Tozier was not lucky.

He grew up in the middle of nowhere in a shitty small town that was perpetually stuck in the 80s. And he was gay. So, that, in itself, spoke a lot about his shitty luck.

On top of that, Richie's parents, Maggie and Wentworth Tozier, really didn't give a shit about what he did. Ever. (He remembers telling them about being an official Twitch partner, and he got the equivalent of a 'yeah, yeah, whatever you say' text.) So, he was kinda alone. Since he was like 5 years old.

To be fair, Richie wasn't really the easiest person to be around. His therapist would probably say: "Because you never received much attention at home, you became a physical representation of 'LOOK AT ME'." And he was usually right, so there was some merit to that.

The thing was, Richie always knew he was destined for the public eye (maybe because he felt so insignificant), he wanted to make a difference. Do something so that people would see him, for once-

Streaming wasn't initially anything special, not really. Richie was just bored, which was honestly how most things he did started, and decided to make an account. Cruising over the app for awhile, he doesn't know exactly what made him do it, but he just decided to go in balls deep.

He bought a webcam, a mic, a better gaming chair, and a way fucking better PC. One good thing about his parents, they were rich. (Not the megamansion kind but definitely the healthy retirement kind). And he doesn't know if they felt guilt about how they raised him, but they were pretty lenient with 'allowances'. If you could even call them that.

And then, one day, he just pressed that fancy button.

And the rest is history.

Richie's life was kind of built around streaming at this point. He didn't really have an internal clock, so he'd wake up to stream in the mornings if he was responsible, and if he wasn't he'd do them when he was bored at 3 am. (His subs had taken to calling those streams "Richy hours" like the witch thing. Richie just rolled with it.) In the beginning, his chat and subscribers felt a little like his friends.

With college far out of his mind, he focused solely on content creation. Which, at this point was mainly streaming (not that he hasn't tried other things, there is an old YouTube channel his chat will never let down). That being said, he focused on that a lot -maybe too much, by some of his friend's standards.

That's where he was now, tapping out a rhythm on his desk as he readied up everything for the stream. This one was an actual scheduled one, which was a win for Richie's responsibility. Skimming over his monitors, he made sure to put some cursed picture on the greenscreen behind him (and made sure his shirt didn't have green on it). Making sure all his little special things were in order, like the subscriber notifications and little visuals. (They were all his own renditions, handmade. Meaning they were disfigured stick figures that chat now adored.)

And with that, Richie hit the button.

He waited a moment for people to flood in, always did -humming along with some song he had stuck in his head for the 400th time.

"Hey, all you motherfuckers," he chimed (yes, that is what he called his fans), "-how are we doing today?"

Richie skimmed over the chat through his glasses, trying to catch a few of them.

"My cat died," he read, shifting a hand through his hair (it was probably too long now, but he didn’t care), "-Fuck, dude, you're ruining the vibes. But, seriously, rest in peace."

He saluted, like Richie would do.

Skimming through chat again, he caught on another.

"Where did you get your name? Funny story actually," he began, "-it's what bullies used to call me in middle school."

The name being 'trashmouth.tozier', that is.

"No, chat, I'm not trauma dumping-"

His eyes caught on a checkmark, stan.the.man, Richie grinned big. 'What the hell are you doing up this early?'

"Staniel! Good to see you today," he clapped his hands, fidgeting with something else (he physically could not stop moving), "-And I am streaming, fucking duh."

He saw the chat waft through with a few 'STANLEY!!!'s, and maybe grinned a little brighter. Stanley was one of the Losers Club members, or this group of streamers who played together. It was Stanley, Bev, Ben, Mike, Bill, and well... Richie.

Stanley did a lot of calm games, the kinds like Stardew Valley where there's only a little combat. And even then, he just mostly did those like cheap puzzle games where you digitally built a puzzle. How he had an audience, Richie doesn't know. Sometimes he wonders how Stan even befriended him, so he was a little clueless in general.

Bev did a lot of things on stream honestly. Her biggest stuff was sewing, making outfits, and trying them on. Her chat would tell her what to fix or give her ideas on what to do next; it was pretty fun and unique. Richie popped in a few times and gave his two cents; Beverly usually just flipped him off wordlessly, but still. She did game though, obviously.

Ben came actually as one of her subscribers (unsurprisingly, Richie would find out). Bev dug into him once, watched a stream, and recruited him. He was actually the newest of the crew (it went Stanley, Richie, Bill, Mike, Bev, and Ben), and did a sort of mix of streams. He did book reviews and would take chat's suggestions on what to read next, for one. Sometimes, they'd all submit poems for him to read (Richie would send one in and Ben wouldn't even read it out loud, he was too soft for that). If not anything book-related (snore), Ben did mystery games. Like half those ones where you find things on certain screens, and half like story-driven ones. Otherwise, his channel was pretty quiet, closer to Stanley's in vibes.

Mike was the epitome of calm. EPITOME. Mostly, he did story games, the kind where characters die (Richie had seen him cry on camera at least twice), and your choices impact everything else. He did dabble in horror games though, a little because it was funny to watch scary stuff happen and Mike be completely centered with himself. And if his chat felt like it, they'd play like a cozy game. It was just the right vibes for Mike as a person.

Bill was a fun one, he fully played horror games (mostly). And yeah, he got scared, just like any normal person would, but then he'd beat the shit out of the game. Richie has watched him clear full games in 2 hours, whole games. God made him fucking determined, and Bill took that to the max. Richie was good at certain games in particular, but Bill? He could easily figure out a game in minutes and do pretty fucking good in it in, tops, an hour. He was the kind of streamer who sometimes did speedruns. It was pretty impressive, Richie will admit.

Now, Richie?

Trashmouth Tozier was total utter chaos, his chat usually reeled him in, which was kind of the opposite of what Twitch was. But it's how it worked.

Any game was, well, fair game. An obscure NES title that is shitty because of how hard it is? Done. Barbie Horse Adventures? Let's do it. A dating game about pigeons? Yeah, been there, done that. (He dated every single pigeon, every single one, and unlocked all the story available.) Story game where you can control your path? He was going villain every time, but yeah. If he wasn't doing chat's recommendations, he was showing off in some arcade-style game or maybe an RPG. Not to brag, but he was pretty fucking good at them; the Losers Club hated that, mostly because it blew up his ego.

"What are we doing today?" Richie read out, and then grinned big and wide, "-Well, well, chat. We're tackling something you guys have begged for, almost as much as your mom was last ni-"

Beep! Beep! A clown horn echoed through the air.

The little visual of a clown (with an obnoxiously big red nose) popped up, along with a name and message.

mike.me.up donated $1: took one for the team guys

Right, Richie had a physical button people could use to shut him up. Every time someone donated, they could choose to 'beep' him. His friends had picked up on saying it to him verbally: "Beep, beep, Richie."

"C'mon, Mikey," he groaned, eyes dipping over the chat (which was still flooded with horn emojis and 'beep, beep' in all caps), "-that one wasn't even that bad-"

stan.the.man: thanks mike

"Guys," he whined, throwing his head back,"-stop ganging up on me. Chat, defend me."

The chat blew up (mostly those like huffing out air emojis and soldier salutes), and Richie thought he saw a request for a Barbie game (again), and he ignored it.

big.bill: are you going to tell us the game or not, rich?

"Billy, you always have to ruin the fun, don't you?" Richie pursed his lips with no bite. He never really had any bite, "-But okay, fine. Let's fucking do this-"

With a grin, he unmuted the audio that was playing from the game's main screen, which chat couldn't see yet.

"Dream Daddy~"

reddy.bevvy: FINALLYYY, our prayers have been answered

"Bevvy, baby!" Richie called out, smiling again, before asking, "-What the fuck are you all doing? Shouldn't you be streaming? Or am I the only one who has my shit together today? For once?"

Before anyone could answer, another notification flew across his screen.

benny.boy raided you with 2,645 viewers

"Benny," he called out with a grin, before pausing, "-Wait, when the fuck did your stream start? It's like nine in the morning-"

Richie paused a moment, waiting for the chat to answer his question, Which it did.

"6?!" he spoke in disbelief, eyes wide through the lens of his glasses, "-What the fuck, Ben? What are you doing-"

They went back and forth a few times, Richie rambling about a few different things. Today, it was a little about how he went to get a coffee and the barista put expired milk into it. He really couldn't make this shit up. After that though, he decided to focus in on the game.

Shifting the screen to gameplay with his little camera in the corner, Richie skimmed through the chat again.

"Isn't this game gay?" he read out aloud, "-Yes, it is, and so am I, while we're talking about it."

The chat flooded with rainbow flags and hearts, something in Richie's heart twinkled. He really had a good community, somehow. He had no fucking clue how, actually-

"Wait," Richie gasped, looking at the game, "-I can make my fucking character?! My gay dad? Chat-"

stan.the.man: we're going to be here forever guys, thanks

"Stan," he held his hands over his heart, dramatically, "-you wound me. I thought we were friends. It's always the closest ones who hurt you the worst-"

stan.the.man donated $1: shut the fuck up richard

"Awe," Richie switched his tone, "-Stanley, thanks for the donation. Time for more important matters though-"

He leveled a serious gaze into the camera.

"What do we think, chat? Twink or bear?"

His mods were pretty quick to set up a poll, and actually, it was a twink sweep. And to be fair, Richie did love him a twink. So, he wasn't super surprised. By the time he got to the clothes, chat was slower, calmer, and maybe that's why he saw the message. Or maybe it was fate, Richie could believe it.

eddie.kaspbrak: just don't give him a shitty shirt like yours

eddie.kaspbrak: i can't handle both of them on my screen at the same time

Richie stopped what he was doing, pulling on his shirt at the shoulders (it was white with flamingos wearing fedoras), "What, Eddie Spaghetti? You don't like it?"

He had a tendency to talk to chat like he knew them personally (which he decidedly did not know this person). It was part of the appeal of his streams. Or he thinks so anyway.

eddie.kaspbrak: what the fuck did you just call me?

"Eddie Spaghetti," he repeated, plainly, but with a little bit of a shit-eating grin.

eddie.kaspbrak: that's the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard and I watch your streams so that's saying something

Richie laughed out loud and pinned the comment himself (it stayed there until the stream ended), "Eds gets off on a good one! Chat, let's applaud-"

Chat was filled with clapping emojis, and that was that.

The next time Richie heard from Eddie was about a day later (he had a break day between streams), where he was picking up Dream Daddy again. In the end, he didn't seem to get past meeting every Dad, so he had quite the way to go.

A little after he started the stream, maybe even minutes, he caught Eddie in chat.

eddie.kaspbrak: dream daddy again?

"Eddie!" he exclaimed with a grin, "-Yes, we are romancing the Dads, yet again."

eddie.kaspbrak: you didn't even get to that last time

eddie.kaspbrak: you were spending too much time picking out shitty facial hair

Richie laughed a little, watching as more chats filled the space and he maybe felt a little disappointed that Eddie was washed away in it. Which was fucking weird, but that was just between Richie and himself, so who cares.

"Hey, motherfuckers," he chimed, raising his hands -routinely, "-how are we doing today?"

They got into the game pretty early this time, and Richie took it upon himself to voice every character differently -flawlessly he will add.

"Wait," he spoke, suddenly, "-we can fuck Robert?"

Richie stared at the screen a second, before flashing over to chat, "Guys, should we fuck Robert?"

Clown horn.

geez.zee donated $5: fuck robert

"Thank you, Zee," he chimed, instinctively, before taking on a more heroic (dramatic really) voice, "-For you, I shall fuck Robert!"

They were finally at the portion where you could pick dates, and Richie was exaggeratively rubbing his chin. Eyes darting over the list, they hovered over a few of them.

"This is the café guy, right?" Richie questioned, reading out the name -mouse ontop of him, "-Mat? The one we chose the pun for?"

The chat told him yes.

"Okay," he acknowledged, biting at his lip, "-Chat, I think I want to be a monsterfucker."

reddy.bevvy: you could also be a homewrecker

"Bev," he clicked his tongue, eyes moving over to Joseph (the married Dad), "-you do have a point."

benny.boy: neither of them is your type though, rich

"Ben, Benny, my beloved," Richie responded, "-It's about the fantasy of it. It's fucking boring if I do that."

Before he could say much else, a horn interrupted it.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $1: what is your type?

Richie grinned, big and bright, batting his eyelashes, "Eds, my oh my, are you flirting with lil' ole me?"

He got a few more clown honks for that, and yeah, he expected it. Respected it, even.

"If you're not a dude though," he added, "-sorry, it won't work out. I'm into strictly dicks. If I wasn't, I'd be married to Bev."

reddy.bevvy: 😘😘😘

eddie.kaspbrak: fuck you trashmouth

There was a pause.

eddie.kaspbrak: and I am a dude for the record, obviously

eddie.kaspbrak: why would I watch your shitty fucking gameplay if I wasn't

"I'm getting mixed signals here, Spaghetti," Richie commented, mimicking picking petals off a flower, "-He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $1: i asked you a question dipshit

"I dunno, Eds," he laughed, "-if you keep paying me, I might just put it off forever. Plus," he motioned to his monitor, "-Chat already knows."

itty.bitty-mettle: Robert

cryingandscreaming: Robert fs

toziers-trash: he's fucked up so probably Robert

jiggy.saws: Robert hands down

letdown-urhair: he always goes for brunettes and he's a freak so Robert

too.tough.to.cry: screaming why is everyone saying the same thing

the_girls.girl: Robert but like a twink

your._.mom: you'd think it was Joseph but it's Robert

bouncing-baby-boy: Robert bc he's a dick

Richie motioned to chat again, dramatically making prayer hands with a melodic tone, "The chat has spoken."

He took a second like that, before switching back to normal -answering genuinely, "But yeah, Spaghetti, teeny little brunettes who are mean to me."

stan.the.man: he is being 100% honest by the way believe me

Eddie decidedly didn't say anything else. Not that Richie was waiting or anything. Because he wasn't.

"Well," he cleared his throat, strictly not disappointed, "-mods, let's run a poll. Monsterfucker or homewrecker, chat?"

Chapter Text

"Stan," Richie stressed, "-Hear me out."

"It is 2 in the fucking morning where you are, Rich," Stanley replied, kind of flatly (as it always was), "-what are you doing?"

Right, Stan was in Atlanta and he was in San Francisco. The Losers were kind of scattered across America, although, Bev was the closest to him (also in San Francisco). They met up a lot and streamed at Richie's sometimes. (Richie had the better apartment, mostly because of his parents. Gotta use them for something-)

This had nothing to do with that though.

"Debating streaming, obviously," Richie answered -unflinchingly.

"Do you ever get any sleep?" Stan commented, but Richie could tell easily that he was worried. Sometimes, Richie felt a little like he knew him his whole life even though it was only a few years.

"Oh, Staniel," he hummed, deflecting, "-don't stress your dick off, I am fine."

It should go unsaid that he wasn't.

Richie Tozier, in his empty apartment (at least in terms of people), felt lonely. He kind of always felt a little lonely, even on streams or with friends. He would still, at the end of the day, say goodbye and eat his shitty food and watch shitty shows in his dimly lit living room (with a too-big TV that he definitely shouldn't have purchased). So, maybe sometimes he streamed at night because the feeling of just being alone swallowed him whole when he tried to sleep-

"Right," Stanley spoke in a way that Richie knew he didn't believe him (he was right to be fair), "-Richie, why are you calling me?"

Because I felt like I might not be missed. Would you miss me? Stanley, would you miss me?

"To bother you, fucking obviously," Richie said instead.

"Cut the shit," Stanley replied -flatly again.

Richie pressed his lips together for a second, debating just what he wanted to say. If he ever wanted to be truly honest. He debated that every day, he remembers debating that before coming out. If he ever could be truly honest to anybody.

But now, here he was. An openly gay streamer.

He'd had a few public boyfriends too (parents met them, not they cared-), before his Twitch career, yeah, but still.

He hadn't needed to worry about being with someone online though, that was a plus. If he was totally honest, he wasn't sure how he'd handle a public relationship online. He didn't want to fuck it up, or have someone love the fame more than him. He'd seen it before and with everything in him didn't want that.

But Richie... God, he fucking yearned.

Like it was the 1800s and he was forbidden to love who he wanted to. Or maybe like he wanted someone to curl up against on the couch, make his brain shut up. Because it was so loud sometimes, and not in the fucking fun way.

Richie was a balance of self-hatred, emotional repression, and attention starvation. Sometimes he thought that was all he was, that he was annoying. Better in small doses, if you will-

"I don't think anyone is gonna stick around."

He spoke before he could stop it, Richie was never good at shutting up, or controlling himself for that matter-

"Not for-" he echoed out, into his empty apartment, on his bed -staring up at the ceiling, "-Not for me."

Stanley seemed to process it for a second. Like maybe he was running over the words in his mind, getting ready to say some shit laced with wisdom. Like he always did.

"I'm gonna stick around," he decided to say, carefully, "-I'm always gonna be here, Richie."

"I know," he didn't really, but he tried to believe it, "-I know that. I just mean... I mean like you and Pats."

Stanley was married, which initially was a red flag. Marrying your high-school sweetheart was testy, and often ended up in a shitshow. (Richie would've married a closeted guy, so maybe he has no space to judge but-) But Stan and Patty? He's pretty sure they ended up together in every universe, like the kind of love that was inevitable. They could be two fucking birds in a universe and they'd still stick to each other, or at least Richie thought so.

"You mean love?" Stanley questioned, somewhat for clarification.

"Yeah, I don't think-" Richie felt something twist in his stomach, "-I don't think anyone will want to stay with me. I'm..."

"There might be someone as crazy as you out there, Rich."

He laughed a little then, but it still felt so heavy.

"But seriously, you're annoying, yeah-" Stanley continued, voice still scratchy with sleep, "-but you're a good guy, Rich. Don't let this get to your fucking head, but you're funny, and caring, and loyal. Just because you've only dating shitty guys before who didn't see what they had, doesn't mean you aren't good."

Richie stayed silent a moment. He really hadn't had the best relationship with anyone. At all.

"And Patty wants me to say you're handsome too," Stanley added, flatly.

He could hear her voice distantly, "I would snatch you up if you weren't batting for the other team, honey."

"Wow," Stanley responded, offended (but not really), "-you know that we're married, right?"

"We'd obviously be a throuple," Richie commented -casually, before calling out to her, "-and love ya, Pats~"

"Love you too, Richie," she chimed back, and something in him felt a little lighter.

There was a pause there, laughter and smiles hanging in the air. It felt like he was there with them for a second, that he wasn't alone in his apartment... like he always was.

"Richie," Stanley interrupted the warm buzz, "-I know you'll find someone. And I'm never fucking wrong."

He really never was.

He's not sure why he didn't expect it, but when he woke up that morning, Bev was at his door. Stanley probably set her on him, which was something he didn't particularly like... but otherwise, it would be Stanley flying to California to beat his ass. Verbally. Sorta. Stan was complicated-

"Heya, Trashmouth," she grinned, as he opened the door (it was almost too bright for his barely awake eyes), "-I got you some breakfast."

Richie watched as she extended the bag forward and let herself in. It was a little her place at this point because she was here so often. Although, it should be said the whole place screamed Richie Tozier.

Bookshelves full of comics, limited edition signed movie posters littering the walls, an entirely separate display full of trinkets (he had one of Garfield in a bird feeder), and action figures (all posed in... interesting ways, of course). But every core piece of furniture was sort of neutral, Bev's doing. She said, it "balances out the space more", and he frankly trusted her.

"This a fucking welfare visit?" Richie remarked, aimlessly, closing and locking his door, "-You gonna send me to the loony bin if I say stupid shit?"

Beverly responded with ease, turning to patronizingly pat his cheek, "If I was going to do that, I would've done it a long time ago, sweetie."

Richie laughed out loud at that one.

She quietly led him to the living room, and the two of them sat on the floor with the food on the coffee table. He remembers when he didn't even have a coffee table, when all he had were some cardboard boxes-

"Stan told me you called him last night," Bev spoke, cautiously, still eating and not quite looking at him. Like he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to.

Well, at least Richie was right about why she was here.

"Yeah," he decided on, softly, "-I did."

She looked at him then, blue eyes posing a question. Do you wanna talk about it? They screamed, right in Richie's face, all caring and fond and shit he couldn't handle. It made something in his stomach strung tight, and his eyes burned like he was going to cry. He wondered for a second if she could see that.

"You wanna stream?" Richie said, instead.

Beverly didn't flinch, understanding that it wasn't the time, and promptly agreed.

They were setting up a tier list, one of those sites -Richie was trying to make sure his adblock was working currently. He really didn't want to be suspended at this point, especially because of a sketchy ad, streaming meant a lot to him. If he lost it, he didn't know what he'd do, honestly.

Bev sat closely beside him (in an older gaming chair he didn't use anymore), blue eyes peering over the monitor as she carefully ate some chips. Plain lays, if he remembered correctly. Or maybe sour cream and onion, it did smell like that.

"We're doing the Disney princes, right?"

"Yeah," Richie answered fluidly, gently running over audio and video input (just like routine), "-just not sure what we're ranking them on."

"Right," she hummed, eating another chip, "-What about how toxic they'd be as a boyfriend?"

He turned to her then, brainstorming, "How good they fuck?"

Beverly tipped a chip at him, before proposing, "If they can talk dirty?"

"Ooh," Richie grabbed a chip out of the bag, leaning backward in his chair slightly, "-Those kinda go hand-in-hand though, don't they, Red?"

"Let's do it."

She grinned, and Richie felt a little less alone. Even just for a second.

It was the moment in the stream where they were waiting for viewers, Richie tapping along the desk as Beverly sang some lyrics gently.

"Sweet Caroline," she sang lightly, moving her head a little to the beat.

Richie responded on instinct, low and under his breath as he tinkered with the settings, "Bum, bum, bum-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: pay attention to chat dipshit

"Eddie, baby!" Richie called out extending his hands out like he could somehow hug him, "-And you are freakishly early, there's only like 30 people here, chat is dead as fuck."

eddie.kaspbrak: well fuck me then for clicking on this notification

"Awe, Bevvy, did you hear that?" He held his hands on his heart for a second, pretending to fawn, "-Spaghetti has his notifs on for me."

Beverly laughed, before turning to chat -responsibly, "What he means is thank you, Eddie, for the support."

Richie didn't get to see a response because everyone kind of flooded in after that, chat filled beyond belief in mere seconds. Most of them were Bev-related, but Richie understood, he loved her too.

Finally, they got to the tier list.

"What should we rename the tiers?" Richie asked Beverly directly, fingers tapping along the keyboard (light enough to not press).

She hummed, fingers dancing along her chin.

"Hear me out," he suddenly had a thought, typing it as he said it, "-bottom tier, disgusting (bad). Second highest tier, nasty (good)."

Bev paused, digesting his words for a moment, before nodding her head, "No, that's good I like that."

"B-tier is obviously just mid," Richie continued, mindlessly, typing it in, "-nothing special."

Bev hummed, questioning, "What about S-tier?"

"Hmm," he tapped his chin dramatically, before turning to his monitor, "-chat? We got some opinions?"

"Toe curling," he read out, "-Okay, I like that one, but is it better than good nasty?"

unicorny-boingy: sheet-gripping

slay.to.the.death: spicy novel

girlie-pops: what about a cardinal sin

younganddumb: we are all going to hell

the_turtlegod: are we really talking about this right now

mommy-boys: the perfect fuck (trademark)

jessies_girl: euphoria

Richie pursed his lips, Bev over his shoulder -skimming the very same chat.

stan.the.man: I leave you alone for a few hours and you're already doing this shit

They both laughed for a moment, before Richie decided to comment.

"I don't know what you expect from me, Staniel," he retorted, "-If you expected anything else, you simply do not know me."

stan.the.man: it is 11 AM !!!

"Yeah, okay, well," Richie replied, teasing mostly, "-some people want to know what Disney princes would give 'em a good time, and you know what? I don't blame them."

eddie.kaspbrak: you act like this was requested which it decidedly was fucking not

stan.the.man: @/eddie.kaspbrak I like you

He frowned, adjusting his glasses on his face, "Chat, are you not interested to know my rankings? How good me, and Bevvy, think Disney princes would fuck?"

betty.bugs: of course

tozier-trashy: this is exactly the content I expect of you so yes

gen_gennie: absolutely

hog-inthebog: I'm just here to say you're wrong

minecrafter.on.main: yes

cartoon-cursed: obviously

bevs-boa: 🚨🚨 REDDY.BEVVY MENTIONED 🚨🚨

capngown: obvi

genuine._.disappointment: your name is trashmouth this is so on brand

dizknees: if flynn isn't in S you've lost a sub

catastrophically_me: @/disknees its eugene

tag.ur.self: why would I be watching the stream if I didn't

lightnin-queenie: will you rank the cars characters or no

babey-baby-oh: is this including pixar

"The chat has spoken," Richie echoed out with a melodic sort of deep tone, before switching fluently, "-and they want to know so fuck you two."

They ended up deciding on: god-level, nasty (good), mid, better be hot, disgusting (bad). He thinks it works pretty well for their purposes, at least.

And, so, they started.

"Aren't the first few of these shitty?" Richie commented, "-Like with no personality?"

"Except for saving the princess," Bev agreed, tapping along the desk, "-Prince Florian? Who's that?"

Richie's eyes darted to chat.

dizknees: snow white I'm pretty sure

"Oh," he chimed, frowning, "-boring. Is he hot?"

A quick Google search provided him with the prince. Beverly and Richie peered over him, critically; eyes set in total seriousness.

They both looked at each other.

He wordlessly added him to 'better be hot', and Beverly succinctly nodded.

"Tiny waist," he spoke, "-I don't think he has anything else otherwise."

"Yeah," she agreed, "-I doubt he'd even care about you. Just himself."

"Some people like that shit, though," Richie commented.

Beverly paused, turning to him, "Do you?"

He thought about the fact that it was all he kinda knew, that he's not sure anyone actually loved him. And then, he said-

"No."

They moved on pretty quickly after that, but not without Bev looking over him -cautiously. Richie ignored it.

"Prince Charming," he read out, before clarifying, "-Cinderella's prince. I remember this fucker."

"Face blind," Beverly mindlessly added, "-but he's pretty cute. Super committing, on that note, wanted to marry the girl he danced with once."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Uh," she hummed, tossing a pretzel in her mouth, "-maybe both."

tozier.trashy: rate him higher he has personality

tag.ur.self: you should see him in the sequels

bevs.boa: he's a himbo

girlie-pops: can confirm himbo in the sequels

"He's a himbo?" Richie questioned, before stressing further, "-There's fucking sequels to Cinderella?"

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: it's disney fuckwad they're bloodthirsty

"Fair point," he relented, dismissively, "-capitalist pigs, yada, yada, so on and so forth-"

Beverly suddenly spoke up, in recognition, "Oh, yeah! I remember one of them was good. Something about like a different timeline? And he was definitely a himbo in that one. Jumped out a window I think."

"Is that himbo or dumbass behavior?" He asked.

catastrophically.me: you don't understand

dizknees: no it's himbo

eddie.kaspbrak: the whole thing of being a himbo is being dumb stupid fuck

"Stupid fuck, wow," Richie laughed, "-You running out of words, Eds?"

eddie.kaspbrak: fuck you

"Maybe later," he winked dramatically into the camera, before hovering over the list, "-Anyway, Bevvy, how are we feeling?"

She pursed her lips, "I'm not sure, he'd probably be loving. Soft and shit."

"I don't know if I'd want him to be soft-"

Beep, beep!

stan.the.man donated $1: don't even

"Like his dick," Richie continued, ignoring the donation and talking to chat, "-do you get it guys? Guys, like his dick-"

tozier.trashy: richie we love you but that one just no

trashmouth-for-me: yeah that was terrible

only-here-for-trashmouth: almost unsubbed

dizknees: 😂🤣😂😂🤣🤣🤣😆😆🤣😂😆

stan.the.man: wow he's a comedian

plz_stop: you should do a villain run on stardew

benny.boy: I'm so sorry but that was bad

eddie.kaspbrak: you're not supposed to explain jokes trashmouth

Richie smiled, holding up his hands like he was being humble after finishing a set, "Please, please, hold the applause-"

Beverly laughed a little, motioning to herself, "Richie, Richie, come back to me."

"Oh, yeah, we're doing shit, right."

Taking a breath, Richie put him on mid and then looked at Bev. She squinted for a moment.

"No, I agree," she pulled her drink to her lips (water, he thinks), "-he probably doesn't know where the clitoris is."

"Hot take," Richie mindlessly commented, before moving to the next one, "-but I agree 100%. I'm gay, and I could find the clitoris. I did find the clitoris-"

"Too much information, honey," Bev chimed, moving a hand to cover his mouth, "-let's move on."

Prince Phillip was hot, and they ultimately labeled him good nasty. Which was controversial in chat, but it was not Richie's first rodeo.

"Oh shit, we're getting real," his eyes skimmed over the next on the list, Eric, "-Bevvy, S just might see the fucking light of day."

Both of them looking at the picture they pulled up, they carefully eyed him. Beverly's eyes flicked to Richie's and back to Prince Eric.

"You could do a good cosplay of him."

He posed like him in the photo, carefully, and Beverly laughed a little, kissing her fingers like she was eating some really good food, "Perfect."

It came out before he could stop it, "Am I handsome enough for it, though?"

Bev immediately frowned before opening her mouth, most certainly ready to say something-

Beep, beep!

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: of course you are fuckface

Richie's lips fell into a straight line, and he felt something flutter a little in his chest. Shit, when did that happen?

He was mean to me, it was only a matter of time really-

Beverly grinned a little, eyes scampering along his face -somewhat knowingly, "What he said."

On instinct, he deflected -ignoring the way his heart beat in his chest, "You could do Ariel, Red."

tell.me.why: WAIT

bevs.boa: reddy.bevvy and trashmouth.tozier cosplay collab when

trashy.tozier: anyone else see him blush

plz_stop: that reaction was so gay

dizknees: YOU GUYS COULD GO TO A CONVENTION

minecrafter.on.main: BEV PLEASE

gay.shit.guy: 🏳️🌈 GAY SHIT MENTIONED 🏳️🌈

cartoon-cursed: bev would slay as ariel wait

dizknees: do it do it do it

trashmouth-for-me: can't believe I just watched trashmouth go speechless

catastrophically.me: please guys 🙏

betty.bugs: you could stream from the convention

genuine._.disappointment: if you don't do it, I'm unsubbing

Beverly laughed, which made Richie laugh too. The embarrassment sliding off his skin, he felt more in himself. He could always think about that later. Way later. Maybe tonight, when he couldn't sleep.

Not that it needed to be said, but Eric was put on S-tier.

Carrying on in the stream, he relaxed. It would probably be easy from here on out anyway.

"The Beast?"

He stands corrected.

"Bev, Bevvy, I'm not a furry," he turned to his monitor, "-Chat, I am not a furry, but-"

"You know he has a human form," she laughed, "-right?"

"A shitty one," he retorted -completely serious, "-he doesn't even have a beard and he's not... big like he fucking should be."

"Okay, okay," she raised her hands in surrender, "-I can see this is something you're very passionate about. You can run this one."

"Hear me out," he repeated, defensively, before hovering over god-level. Bev raised her eyebrows in response, stopping the chip on the way to her mouth.

"Wait, wait, wait, listen-" she hummed in acknowledgement, "-he's very caring, and has a little bit of an angry side. Which, in the right circumstances, is very fun-"

"Richie," she chastised with a laugh.

"What, it's fucking true," he offered, "-We're adults here, we can acknowledge the kink community."

"Is that a kink?"

"Technically," Richie leveled, a little uncertainly, "-anything you like sensually is a kink, I think."

Bev shrugged, putting the Beast in god-level and popping a chip into her mouth, "You've convinced me."

They moved on.

"Aladdin," Richie through his head back, "-Oh my god. Bev, do we even need to question this?"

She shook her head, sipping her drink before responding, "You could do a good cosplay of him too. Personality-wise."

He placed a hand on his heart, "Aw, Bevvy. That's the nicest fucking thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I just called you handsome."

"Personality over physical looks every day, baby," he chimed back with a shit-eating grin. She promptly shoved him.

"Alright, next up," Richie recovered from the shove, skimming over the next square, "-John Smith? Who the fuck is that?"

dizknees: pocahontas

"The colonizer?" He retorted with a laugh of disbelief.

Bev frowned beside him, shriveling up her nose, "Ew."

With the flick of his wrist, he put him in the disgusting (bad) tier. Unhesitatingly.

Beverly spoke this time, reading, "Captain Li Shang."

"Ooh," Richie spoke, "-Mulan, yeah? He's definitely hot."

"Oh, definitely," she reiterated -agreeing.

"Captain too?" He raised his eyebrows, eyes shooting to Bev's, "-A man of power, Bevvy."

"Who says I don't wanna be the power?"

"Oh my," Richie fluttered his eyelashes for a second, "-Bevvy, Bevvy. Chat, let's clip that."

"You fucker," she hissed, and promptly pushed him out of his chair.

Richie fell into a laughing fit, loud and brash against the floor. He even thinks he snorted out loud, big breaths forcing out of his lungs. Bev looked down at him, blue eyes sparkling.

"You alright down there, Trashmouth?"

"Bev gets off on a good one," he chimed back through laugh, "-Chat, let's applaud."

He pulled himself back up into his chair, wiping at his eyes -still laughing a little. Moreso, embarrassingly, giggling.

trashy.tozier: he's ALIVE

girlie-pops: 👏👏👏

babey_boy: our prayers were answered

hello-everybody: 👏👏👏

tell.me.why: 👏👏👏

bevs.boa: still reeling over bev being a top

trashmouth.for.me: RICHIE THANK GOD

big.bill: what did I miss

tell.me.why: 👏👏👏

dizknees: trashmouth.tozier dead, more at 3

burly-bear: just joined why did we think he was dead

elliot-turbine: 👏👏👏

trashy.tozier: @/burly-bear bev pushed him off the chair

minecrafter.on.main: 👏👏👏

Richie kept giggling.

"Alright, woo," he took a deep breath in, shaking his head and blinking, "-Bev, Li Shang, what's our ruling?"

"I think good nasty," she said, casually -choking back her own laughter.

He laughed a little at her laughter, with ease putting him in the tier, "Good nasty it is!"

And then, his eyes went to the next on the list.

"Oh, fucking easy," Richie tsked, placing both Naveen and Flynn (Eugene, really) in god-like.

Bev nodded dramatically, mouth full of snacks, and clapped her hands in achievement.

"Flynn Rider, he could r-"

stan.the.man donated $1: just stop there for the love of god

Richie saluted, speaking in a deep voice -mimicking a soldier, "Sir, yes, sir."

"There's one more," Bev pointed out, hand over her mouth, "-um, Kristoff."

"Oh," he squinted, "-that's the one from Frozen, right?"

dizknees: yeah he's a consent king

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Consent king?"

dizknees: he asked anna before kissing her

tag.ur.self: asked before he kissed

babey_boy: him and anna are so special to me

tell.me.why: flynn supremacy

trashy.tozier: it was a cute lil moment at the end of frozen

betty.bugs: "i like you better in leather anyway"

dizknees: @/betty.bugs SJSJZHSJJANAHG

plz_stop: he did have the weird thing with Sven tho

babey_boy: @/plz_stop Sven was like a dog to him that's not weird

girlie-pops: where are my jack frost/elsa girlies at

dizknees: @/girlie-pops NOOOOOO

"Shouldn't they all ask for consent?" Richie questioned, "-Why does Kristy get fucking... brownie points?"

"Disney hasn't done it before," Beverly clarified, "-It's like a big deal."

"What the fuck?"

"Yeah," Bev popped another chip in her mouth, "-world's fucked."

"Well, shit," he huffed out, dragging Kristoff around the chart, "-I dunno, I don't think he'd be good in the sack. Wasn't he like raised by wolves or something?"

"Rocks," she clarified, completely serious, "-magical rock people."

Richie took a breath, digesting that information, "Oh-kay. Well, all that being said, I think he's mid."

"Yeah," she agreed, "-He's like very loving but that doesn't necessarily mean that he fucks good."

"Exactly," he cemented, before clapping his hands, "-Well, Chat, we have our final rankings of the Disney princes and how good they'd fuck."

"How good we think they'd fuck," Bev clarified.

"Well, obviously," Richie laughed, "-You want me to teleport into Disney worlds and fuck these men?"

"You would," she teased.

And he very wholeheartedly agreed, "I would."

Chapter Text

Richie was not delusional. Stupid, yeah. But delusional? If anything, he was oblivious.

If someone was into him, he knew fuck all about it.

That being said, what he was doing now was not delusional. It was stupid. And Richie knew that just to clarify.

He was up too late again, and he'd say he was bored. But he was mostly kind of curious.

Sometimes he stayed up scrolling through his Instagram feed, usually sort of wistfully. He scrolled through a lot of the couples tags, mostly because he hated himself. And then he had a thought, a spare thought.

of course you are fuckface

Right. That happened.

He shouldn't be as affected by it as he is, but he guesses he can't control that. And so maybe he had the thought: are you handsome, Eds?

You know, it feels better when it's from someone fucking hot, right? So, he got curious. And Richie did stupid shit when he got curious.

With unsteady hands he went to his page, a public one (although, if he dug, he was pretty sure he'd find an old one), and simply clicked on his followers. That was the thing about Instagram, you could search through your followers. Which in retrospect, felt a little creepy.

And conveniently, he had his username. Or well, he wasn't so sure of the last name but he remembers the 'ka'. Or maybe that wasn't his last name-

"Beep, beep, Richie," he muttered to himself, before clicking the bar and typing.

'Eddie'

Naturally, there were a lot of Eddies that followed him. He wasn't exactly unpopular on Instagram, although, he was a lot more popular on Twitch.

Social media kind of went hand-in-hand, Richie learned. If somebody followed you on Twitch, they might want to follow you on Instagram, if they follow you on Instagram, they might want to subscribe to you on Youtube-

Focus, Richie, he cleared his mind and started typing again.

'Eddie Ka'

eddie.bellie || ✨️fairy dust✨️ Bell

eddie.kal || Kalee is here

e.kaspbrak || Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie blinked, That one. I recognize that name. Before he could think about it too much, he clicked through to the profile.

Eddie Kaspbrak (he/him)

I like cars 🚘 and know what I'm talking about so you better fucking listen NY 21

Follow back || Message || +👤

Richie's eyes moved ahead of his judgment, as he spotted a photo of him. Or what he could guess to be, it was kind of small but Richie could see it was a guy.

Before he could overthink it, he pressed the post.

His heart halted in his chest.

What the fuck, his brain chanted, he's beautiful what the fuck-

Eddie (or what he assumed to be Eddie) was grinning, the kind that crinkled at his eyes and shriveled up his nose. Richie wondered if he always smiled like that, or if this was special. His eyes slid across the bridge of his nose, spotting fucking freckles of all things, freckles-

He felt a little like he might spontaneously combust. Maybe in a fiery flame.

He thought I was handsome? Him? Holy shit-

Richie paused, flickering through the comments, and eyes landing on one in particular. Two, actually.

mike.me.up✔️: so good to see you happy man ❤️

benny.boy.official✔️: just remember you deserve everything good !!!

What the fuck? He thought to himself, How old is this post?

Checking the date, he recognized it to be about a year ago. In doing so, though, his eyes caught on the caption and he faltered slightly.

"To all those people who said I couldn't do it," he read, carefully, "-fuck you. Look at me now."

Richie bit at his lip, his finger swiped to the next one on the post. It was him again, carefully holding what looked to be a milkshake; if Richie looked closely enough, he thought he might be at a diner. He wasn't smiling as big this time, but more preoccupied with something else -entranced. Richie felt a little like he was floating then. Had he ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life?

Speaking of, when had he ever called someone fucking beautiful? God, he was so fucked.

Before he could stop it, he was scrolling through his entire feed. He'd gotten off mostly without a hitch, just until he was looking at the most recent one.

It was Eddie again, but he was working on a car. Smudges of oil slipped across his face (he really looked like he hated it), and in those cute jumpsuits that mechanics wore, Richie felt a little confused about whether it was hot or cute. He was thinking maybe both.

He's not entirely sure how it happened, but he thinks he thought the newest post might be a carousel. (Where there is more than one picture.) Well, it decidedly was not. And when he tried to flick through them, his phone decided to register it as a double tap.

Richie blinked, once and then twice. Pink heart filling his thoughts while the entirety of his brain flatlined.

"Shit," he suddenly chimed, pushing himself off the bed slightly in panic, "-shit, shit, shit. I just have to-"

He clicked the heart again, and the like promptly disappeared. Richie let out a heavy sigh of relief and threw himself back on the bed. Fucking stupid.

It was probably quick enough Eddie wouldn't even notice it. There's nothing to worry about, yeah. (At least that's what he'll tell himself.)

It was, what, 6 am in New York right now? What self-respecting human being would be up at 6 am-

One message request from e.kaspbrak

Shit.

Richie stared at it for a few seconds.

Maybe like he'd blink and it would go away. He could totally be hallucinating, absolutely. Doesn't lack of sleep do that to you? Or maybe he could just be a dick and not look? There's a lot of message requests that he has, half from bots and half from fans (some weirder than others, let's be honest). He could just say he missed it? Maybe? He didn't owe it to Eddie to respond.

Something was crawling up his throat though, that picture running through his mind. And that message. God, he was just a subscriber, why the fuck was he like this? He'd definitely have to tell this to Steve (his therapist)-

Fluidly, Richie went to his messages. He skimmed some new ones in his primary (mostly friends sending him memes or his mods checking in). And then, with a breath, he clicked on requests.

e.kaspbrak
What the fuck

He laughed, mostly because it seemed really in character for what he knew of Eddie. Which, in retrospect, was not much. Enough to apparently make him curious though. Something swirled in him that the man messaging him was the same in the picture -fucking beautiful. Of all ways to describe someone, that's what his brain settled on. God, he really was gay-

Richie debated a few answers for a moment. His mind spiraling, anxiety twisting his stomach so violently that he might throw up. Will probably throw up, actually, he did that a lot when he was nervous-

e.kaspbrak
Aren't you in California?

What are you doing up at 3 am?

Okay, that was not the thing he expected him to comment on first. But, turns out, Eddie was full of surprises.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what are u doing up at 6 am spaghetti

no one wakes up that early

e.kaspbrak
All types of people get up at 6 am dipshit.

You ever heard of a job?

He laughed again and realized he was really fucked up for thinking someone berating him was funny. But then, he got kind of curious. Eddie knew stuff about him. And he kinda... wanted to know things about Eddie. Pathetically.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u have a job eds ??? r u a chef?

bc spaghetti, u get it?

e.kaspbrak
Are you seriously sticking to that one? Fucking spaghetti?

You're a dumbass.

And yeah of course I pay to watch your dumbass, don't I?

He pursed his lips a second, did he not want to tell him? Even still, he waited a second, watching the bubble for a moment.

e.kaspbrak
I'm a barista.

I fucking hate it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
awe eds in a cute lil apron

i used to work customer service it was hell

And then he paused, thinking. Richie carefully added to the message something more genuine like he was testing the waters. Seeing what he could get away with, without seeming like a creep.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what do u wanna be ?

if u could choose

There was a pause, and suddenly Richie felt incredibly stupid. What the fuck was he doing? Texting someone in chat? Because they called him handsome? Well, he was funny. So, he probably added that to the motivation too.

He had no idea why he was even here, doing this. It just felt... He felt fucking pulled in, and he got curious. But maybe he really was just being stupid-

e.kaspbrak
A mechanic.

And the apron isn't cute, it's nasty as shit after every shift.

His fingers moved before he could stop them. He really was never good at controlling himself, ever.

trashmouth.tozier✔️
who said it was the apron spaghetti ? 😉

Richie stared at the sent message for too long. Maybe hating himself a little bit more, because he was too much. And he couldn't always reel himself back-

e.kaspbrak
You did dipshit. Do you have the memory of a fucking goldfish?

That would actually explain a lot in your streams.

Richie paused -waiting for the other shoe to drop.

e.kaspbrak
And thanks.

You would make a good Eric. Even if you think you wouldn't, fuckwad.

Okay, he thought to himself -maybe grinning a little, not too much. Something unfurling in his chest that felt put away a long fucking time ago. (Maybe a few years, but that was nearly as dramatic enough for Richie Tozier.)

He smiled, maybe a little cheesily bright but that was between him and his apartment walls.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
thanks eds

and i do

it's called adhd

And then he paused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
and i think you would make a good mechanic

e.kaspbrak
How? You probably don't even know shit about cars.

Do you even remember to change your oil?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u are supposed to change that ?

Richie watched as the bubble started up, almost immediately. It made him laugh a little.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
just kidding spaghetti

relax

e.kaspbrak
You're such a shithead.

And don't call me that.

trashmouth.tozier✔️
yeah uh no

that's sticking sorry eds

e.kaspbrak
Fuck you dickweed.

And Richie laughed again. Alone, in his apartment, at 3 am. He laughed at a guy in his Instagram DMs.

God, he was so fucked.

e.kaspbrak
It's almost 4 am in California right now.

You need to go to fucking sleep.

Do you know how much not sleeping fucks you up?

It can literally fuck up your brain function and you can't fucking afford that. Yours barely functions as is.

Richie laughed again, and he was kind of thankful nobody lived with him for once. How was he supposed to explain himself? He had no fucking clue.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe spaghetti cares about me 🥺

and my brain 🥺

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you.

Go to sleep.

There was a pause, and he thought for a second he might leave it there.

e.kaspbrak
See you at your stream when you wake up.

Something in him softened, and maybe for once he was excited to sleep. His brain felt a little quieter, more manageable.

He wasn't too much for Eddie. At least for now.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah okay eds

see ya then

And if he slept the best he had in awhile that night, that was only for him to know.

They kept texting for about a week, and just like he said, Eddie was a substantial (he should note) part of his next few streams. Today was his break day though, and he would be lying if he wasn't staring at his phone on the charger. Waiting for it to ding.

Which was a little pathetic, but Richie was okay with it somehow.

And then, it dinged.

Richie almost tripped himself to grab his phone off the charger. And he was glad in that moment that no one was there to see it.

e.kaspbrak
I'm working with my least favorite coworker. I wish I was fucking dead.

I hate her more than I hate you, and that's saying something.

Richie laughed a little, and let himself ruminate. Or maybe he just didn't want to look desperate. It was all kind of the same, anyway.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u want me to come and tell her she makes shit coffee ?

pull my famous card ???

and what did she do ?

e.kaspbrak
You're such a dick.

Richie hoped he was laughing. Sometimes he thought he might be.

e.kaspbrak
She just won't leave me the fuck alone.

If she puts her hands on my arm one more time, I'm going to bite her head off.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
pretty sure that's called workplace harassment eds

u should go to ur manager

And something in Richie made him type more, even though, he really could have left it there. And he probably should have. But he was fucking curious.

Fuck his brain.

trashmouth.tozier✔️
and just call up ur gf

tell her that u need saving

eds the damsel in distress ✨️🧚

He gnawed at his lip, fingers dancing along his sheet. He almost threw his phone back onto his chest, or maybe against the wall-

e.kaspbrak
boyfriend*

And I'm single dipshit. Why would I be texting you if I wasn't?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
oh

Richie felt something in his chest flutter. Like a fucking schoolgirl watching her crush play in a football game. If he had a little less dignity (and it wasn't fucking insane in the mornings), he would twirl his hair and kick his feet.

Fucking focus, trashmouth.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
welcome to the club eds

e.kaspbrak
You're single?

Richie pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah ?

have u ever seen a bf on my streams ?

e.kaspbrak
I just thought you had one off camera.

Or something.

He paused a second. That text somehow read as embarrassed or maybe... awkward. Richie wasn't sure how to read it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
well i don't

e.kaspbrak
Well, me neither.

Richie's heart halted in his chest for a second.

e.kaspbrak
Obviously, because she won't stop bothering me.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
just tell her u do

or tell her ur gay

e.kaspbrak
How is that her business?

And I can't just lie dipshit.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
it's not fair point

and why not ?

e.kaspbrak
She'll ask me questions.

And I'm shit at lying.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
let me do it for u

i did it for 18 years baby it's foolproof

e.kaspbrak
How the fuck are you going to do that?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
just spit out a person for u

i will give u all the details and u can just recite them

no thoughts needed spaghetti

e.kaspbrak
You can just make up a person?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
uh yeah

i used to do skits when i was like 12

by myself

e.kaspbrak
I would pay fucking good money to see some of those.

But okay. Give me your weird fake person.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
jamie porter

in tech school for IT shit

only child

really introverted bc constantly studying

likes jazz and the color blue

u go on classical concert dates sometimes

e.kaspbrak
What the fuck

That's not my type at all.

He honestly debated asking exactly what that was but he held back. Because, technically, Eddie knew his type. Which was exactly him. That... shit, he never thought about that.

He cleared his throat.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
why would it be ?

he's not real eds

it's just for a lie

e.kaspbrak
Can I just tell you my type fuckface?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
why

e.kaspbrak
Because I want to dipshit.

And I already know yours, it's only fair.

Richie felt a little stupid. And a little confused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
okay spaghetti whatever u say

e.kaspbrak
Tall idiots. Very tall, and very fucking stupid.

Chapter Text

It was a few days later (and Eddie's message was still bouncing around his head, even though they'd kept talking the whole time and moved on from it). Richie can't remember exactly what he'd said in response, but it was something pathetically embarrassing. Like maybe 'okay'.

He really didn't even have the guts to go back and check. (For reference, all he'd actually said was interesting. Can't tell if that's worse.)

Richie was supposed to stream today, but Bev wanted him on her stream. (Something about doing men's clothes). So, he changed plans. Posted on social media that he was, which probably meant both of their audiences would be watching. And while that was a little nerve-wracking, Richie was a natural on stream -it was kinda the place he felt the most like himself. Which was a little sad, he didn't think about it too much.

Anyway, it was about an hour before the stream and he was debating.

Beverly was busying herself with fabrics, holding them up against him from a distance.

Tell, or not to tell, tell, or not to tell, tell-

"Stop thinking so hard, you're going to hurt yourself."

Richie blinked, clearing his throat, and straightening his posture. Her eyes slinked along him for a second, curiously. It was only a matter of time before she figured him out (he was shockingly easy to read). She opened her mouth to say something-

Ding.

He grabbed his phone so fast that Bev no doubt saw it, and he didn't even think about that at all. He was really so fucked. Eddie had a strangely strong hold on him. He was always a dumbass (he'd been called clingy a lot) when it involved feelings though, so maybe it was normal for him.

e.kaspbrak
You're on Bev's today?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah she's gonna make some men's shit

and I'm a fucking model ✨️💅

e.kaspbrak
That's how you know she's low on options.

Richie laughed.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u called me handsome eds

u made me this way

e.kaspbrak
You are handsome dickweed.

Your personality is the problem.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
awe spaghetti thinks I'm handsome 🤭🤭🤭

e.kaspbrak
You already knew that??

Or did you run out of memory in your brain? That would make a lot of sense too.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
i think you're a cutie patootie too eds 😘

e.kaspbrak
You're such a dick trashmouth.

"Whose that?"

Richie blinked again, the smile dropping from his face, "What?"

Bev was mindlessly folding and stacking fabric, really impressive that she could do that without even looking actually, "Who are you texting?"

"I'm just watching videos," he offered -weakly.

"Right," she laughed, stepping closer, "-without audio?"

He instantly reacted, more casually, "Bevvy, you might think I'm a dumbass, which to be fair I am, but I can read."

"Richie," she leveled, blue eyes staring.

He weighed his options.

"Okay, okay," he threw his hands up, "-it's Eddie."

"Eddie?" She questioned, now completely facing him.

"Like um," Richie rolled his lips through his teeth, hissing out a breath, "-like the one in my chat?"

"Oh, Eddie," she stressed out, "-you know I did notice a change in your streams, actually. How did you find him?"

"Don't judge me, but-" he spoke, a little hesitantly, "-internet stalking."

"No, I get that," Bev relayed, before clarifying, "-and you just... messaged him?"

"No, I accidentally liked a post and he messaged me."

She laughed a little, "That checks out, actually."

"Yeah," Richie added, "-I'm a dumb motherfucker."

"Only sometimes," she added, flawlessly, before moving closer -curious, "-is he cute?"

"Oh, so cute," he spoke, near instantly, through a rushed breath (he had been kinda holding this in), "-He's got these cute fucking freckles, and works on cars-"

"Is he gay?"

She followed up, a little concerned. Richie had been there before, so she was completely founded.

"Yeah," he pursed his lips for a moment, "-and he told me his type was tall idiots. Which I think was him hitting on me-"

"No thinking," she laughed for a moment, "-that's a definite. Let me guess, he's a tiny brunette?"

Richie grinned a little, a shit-eating grin probably, "Maybe."

"Let me see your texts," she held out her phone, and it should be said, he didn't even hesitate. He really trusted his friends.

She snatched it up, unflinchingly. Typing in the passcode (which she of course knew), she seemed a little surprised to see that it was already open.

"Oh, he texted you," she sat just beside him, reading, "-'Gotta go, boss sucks ass, but I'll see you at the stream.' What do you want to say?"

"'See you spaghetti' with a heart, an obnoxious amount of hearts actually," he watched over her shoulder, "-commit to no capitals, and use the letter u, not the word."

"Sir yes sir," she laughed, typing it out and then, carefully scrolling up, "-shit, you guys talk a lot."

"Yeah," he laughed a little, "-it's like he's not getting sick of me."

Bev turned to him then, carefully scanning over his face, "We don't get sick of you either, Richie. You know that, right?"

"Well, I don't-" he started, before resetting himself, "-I... hold back sometimes because I think I'm too much."

"Richie-"

"But I don't," he spoke, a little carefully, "-with Eddie, I don't."

She pursed her lips, eyes shooting back to the texts and then back to him, "For the record, you don't have to hold back from me, but-"

Richie waited.

"-I'm happy you have that. Really."

With a breath, she read through the texts. Only commenting a few times ("He was definitely flirting with you, Rich." or "It is strangely kind of cute how he insults you, I kind of get it."), the time flew by. Before he could blink, it was time for the stream to start.

She was setting everything up for a moment, her desk was a standing one, so Richie was kind of awkwardly in the background. He really, at his core, was lanky limbs and awkward posture, even more so standing. Hence why he only had sitting streams.

Bev told him when she started the stream, and then promptly asked, "Should I move my camera up? Can you guys see Richie?"

Chat was still basically dead, but some people did answer her.

"'Tragically yes'," she read out, laughing, "-Oh hey, Eddie! I've seen you in Richie's streams how are you?"

"Hi, spaghetti!" He grinned (big enough that it was kind of embarrassing), waving.

eddie.kaspbrak: I'm doing okay thank you

bevs.boa: 🍝🍝🍝

the_fashionista27: whose eddie

trashy.tozier: @/the_fashionista27 a regular on trashmouth streams

dizknees: EDDIEEEE

trashy.tozier: 🍝🍝🍝

elite.girl07: bev what are we doing today

skirt-nopants: why are there spaghetti emojis in chat

beverly_supremacy34: BEVVYYYY

stan.the.man: why is he here

tozier_babeyyy: 🍝🍝🍝

benny.boy: so excited for today's stream !!!

"We are doing men's clothes today," she chimed, happily, before walking back to where Richie stood (where she was drastically shorter) and splaying out her hands, "-hence our visitor."

He threw out some jazz hands, awkwardly. He always felt a little out of place on other people's streams, he usually toned himself down, especially for Bev's.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: since when are you tall

Beverly laughed, reading that one out. Turning toward Richie, she beckoned him to answer.

"Since I was 16, Eds," he clarified, exaggeratively brushing off his shoulders, and purposely lowering his voice, "-not to brag, but I am 6'1."

dizknees: no he has a good point

bev-hiiiii: I have never actually seen him stand

trashy.tozier: you're 6'1 ?!

the.losers.are.better: I thought he was lying

"Guys, come on," he laughed, speaking defensively, "-have a little faith in me. I'm not that fucking shitty."

stan.the.man donated $10: yes he is don't let him lie to you

Richie laughed again, "Fuck you, Stanley."

"Okay, okay," Bev motioned, "-let's focus chat. What kind of shirt do we want to make today?"

They decided pretty quickly on a button-up, mostly because Richie's wardrobe consisted of that and graphic tees. Bev wanted him to wear it, and he would definitely wear a button-up.

She always did want to test the waters with him though, bring him out of his fashion boundaries. His comfort zone really.

Skimming through the fabrics, she picked up two. She let Richie touch them all (he'd rather die than where a shirt that was scratchy on his skin), and she settled on two that he'd approved of. A white one with light blue vertical stripes, and a yellow one with tiny little stars in a pattern. Richie, naturally, liked the yellow more but either way he'd be happy to have a shirt made by Bev.

"Wait," she paused, debating, "-chat, what if we made him a plain one? And I could style a sweater over the top? Ooh, or a vest-"

"Totally down for that, Bevvy, really, I love it-" he interrupted, "-but we live in California. Layers mean sweat, and I'm a sweaty man-"

big.bill donated $5: how do we beep beep him here

"I guess just use chat," Bev hummed, laughing a little.

smell-ya-later: beep beep

stan.the.man: beep beep

eddie.kaspbrak: shut the fuck up richard

bevs.boa: beep beep

trashy.tozier: sweaty rep say that king 🤴

elite.girl07: beep beep (I have no idea what we're doing)

dizknees: beep 📣 beep 📣

pantmeup88: dunno you but beep beep ig

the_fashionista27: beep beep

the._.voices: beep beep

b*tchy-richie: beep beep

beverly_supremacy34: just realized that's trashmouth

mike.me.up: beep beep

Richie raised his hands in surrender, pretending to zip his lips closed. Bev promptly zipped them back open with a smile, patting his chest, "It's not fun if you're not talking, Rich."

She then spun around pointing at the camera, making a motion like she was watching them, "I'll fight you guys next time, watch out."

Chat responded with a slew of emojis.

"Alright, anyway," she pulled up the two fabrics -showing them to the camera, "-chat, these are our options."

Bev walked back to Richie's side, holding up the blue against his chest, "A," then the yellow, "-or B? Mods?"

The poll was finishing up, when the notification popped up.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: don't listen to those fuckers it's yellow

"Is blue even winning, Eds?" Richie laughed, something fluttering in his chest. He thoroughly debated changing his entire wardrobe to yellow-

dizknees: period say that 🍝

trashy.tozier: no he's right

trashmouth-for-me: YELLOWWW

bevs.boa: you guys don't understand art it's blue

girlie-pops: I'm late what are we arguing about

pickle-pickle7: no fr it's yellow

your._.mom: guys come on be real it's yellow

beverly_supremacy34: HOW IS BLUE WINNING

dizknees: yellow stans UNITE 😤😤😤

baby-baby67: yellow yellow yellow

butterfly_spawn: first stream what's up

bevs.boa: @/butterflyspawn hiiiii welcome <33

babey_gurl745: obvi yellow

urgencyforwhat: listen to me when I say this BLUE

burt-n-ernie.loverz: blue it matches his eyes

stan.the.man: eddie's right

smell-ya-later: poll is rigged bevvy

benny.boy: I think he looks good in both

"Thanks, Benny," Richie hummed, batting his lashes, and blowing a strangely wet kiss toward the camera.

Bev pursed her lips, eyeing the poll, "It's going to crazy fucking close, guys."

eddie.kaspbrak: can I pay for more votes

Bev and Richie laughed at that. Well, Richie might have giggled, actually. Why was every embarrassing thing he did on public record?

trashy.tozier: where's the gay shit guy saying that is gay shit

trashmouth-for-me: @/trashy.tozier no real

gay.shit.guy: 🌈🌈 GAY SHIT MENTIONED 🌈🌈

bevs.boa: are y'all seeing what I'm seeing 👀

butterfly_spawn: I hope yellow wins

beverly_supremacy34: @/bevs.boa no no I see it

battle.bus547: yellow deserves it

girlie-pops: bev do both

burly._.bears89: will you guys play minecraft soon

trashy.tozier: richie tozier gay? more at 11

bet_on_it: @/trashy.tozier trashmouth is gay?

trashy.tozier: @/bet_on_it are you serious?

trashmouth-for-me: yellow yellow yellow

"Alright," Bev laughed, clapping her hands once, "-I think I'm just going to do both. Alright, Rich, get ready for some measuring!"

The rest of the day was pretty quick, Bev told him it would take a few days if not a week for her to get one done, at least a few more streams. Two meant a longer wait and Richie was alright with it. He couldn't fucking imagine making something himself, so he would wait without complaint. Not that he'd complain anyway.

He waltzed up the stairs of his apartment, fingers dancing along the rails. The metal chime echoed around the room as he did so, and he paused -waiting to see if anyone was in the stairwell.

Richie wasn't entirely sure he knew any of his neighbors, or even if he wanted to. Who knew their neighbors these days? He only really saw familiar people in the lobby, and surprisingly, he didn't really talk to them. Well, maybe not surprisingly, if you really knew him he wasn't super comfortable with strangers. When he was nervous, not uncomfortable, he started fucking talking.

It was different.

Slowly, when there was no reaction, Richie made it up the stairs. And then, his phone started blaring.

"Shit," he nearly dropped it, before quickly answering, "-Hello?"

"Richie," it was Mike, he realized (in all his haste, he hadn't really even checked the caller ID apparently), "-hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"What? No," he mended, quickly -regaining his composure and walking through his floor (lowering his voice appropriately) "-I'm just getting home from Bev's, what's up, Mikey?"

"I wanted to," he paused a second, "-I wanted to talk to you about Eddie."

Richie faltered, slowly putting the key into the lock, "What about Eds?"

"You're not-" Mike started, before seeming to reiterate, "-You're not fucking with him, are you?"

He opened his door, sliding off his shoes and tossing a bag he brought onto the counter -moving to lock the door behind himself, "Fucking with him?"

Mike clarified, "Like joking? About being... being interested in him, friend or otherwise?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's not you, Rich," he quickly added, "-Eddie's just been through some shit. He's an old friend and deserves a lot better than what the world has given him."

Right, 'so good to see you happy man ❤️'.

"How do you know him?" Richie asked before he could stop it -throwing himself onto the couch.

"You remember how me and Ben lived in the same shitty smalltown?"

Ben and Mike were old friends, used to volunteer at the library over the summer together. (At least, he's pretty sure that's how that happened.) They hadn't stayed in contact, but then Bev found Ben and recruited him, and they were reunited. Even still, Richie doesn't know the luck of that happening but it did.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Well, Eddie lived there too," Mike clarified, "-He visited the library a lot, it was one of the only places he was allowed to go-"

"Allowed?" Richie questioned, once again his mouth was uncontrollable.

"His mom, she..." Mike fell silent, settling on something, "-Eddie should tell you about that. It's not my place."

"Oh-kay," Richie replied, a little confused, fidgeting with a button on his shirt, "-Mikey, what is this about?"

There was a pause.

"Look," Mike refocused, voice steady (in the scary loyal kinda way Richie's only heard a few times), "-all I'm asking is if you're genuine. With Eddie."

"You do shit like this for me?" He joked, a little flatly, "-Or do you pick favorites?"

"I am," Mike answered simply, "-I already have."

He talked to Eddie? Something in Richie wanted to ask about it, poke and prod until he couldn't anymore. Just like he always did. What did he say about me? What did he say about m-

"So?" Mike questioned.

Richie pursed his lips for a second.

"Of course, I'm fucking genuine," he started fidgeting with the buttons more intently like he could avoid what he was saying (make it a little less real), "-I think Eddie is the shit. Probably the coolest person I know, no offense, and I-"

The words halted in his throat, almost like he wasn't ready to say them. He powered through anyway.

"-I really like him. It's fucking embarrassing how much I like him."

"Like-like?" Mike asked, completely serious.

"Are you seriously fucking saying that right now?" Richie laughed, pulling his fingers away from the button, "-You sound like we're under the bleachers gossiping about the hunky football captain or some shit. Do you think he'll ask me to the dance, Mikey? Do ya think so-"

Mike laughed, "How else am I supposed to say it?"

"I dunno," he added, brushing a hand through his curls, "-How about... Are you into him? Do you think he's hot as shit? Have you planned your future marriage ceremony in your head-"

"Have you?"

Richie's lips pressed into a firm line (he'd really only gotten to the engagement part -god he was so fucked up), "No."

"Right," Mike laughed -uncertain, "-Look, Richie, I think it's great you like him, and I'm willing to bet he's into you too-"

Why? What did he say? He likes me? How do you-

"-But be careful," he continued, "-I don't want you or Eddie hurt in the long run. It would be really shitty to half to divide my time like I have divorced parents."

"I'd obviously have custody of you," Richie instinctively responded.

"I don't know," Mike countered, "-Eddie has a lot of fight in him. He'd drag you through hell in court."

"Fair point," he relented, maybe smiling a little.

"Well, that's all I wanted to ask," Mike sighed out, "-Plus, I stream in like an hour, so I gotta go. But take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, you too," he quietly responded.

It felt a little like it echoed along his walls, even though the room wasn't as empty as the stairwell. (It felt a little like it was, in the ways that mattered). Richie dropped his phone on his chest and stared up at the ceiling -silent.

He should probably tell Stan all of this is happening, huh? And Steve, when he sees him next. (Should be in about a month.) He basically had a list for the guy when he gets to his next appointment, filled with thoughts and events-

Ding.

Richie peeked at his phone.

e.kaspbrak
Did Mike talk to you?

He pursed his lips a second, fingers stagnant against the keyboard.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah u?

e.kaspbrak
Obviously, I just asked you dipshit.

Richie smiled.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u r a funny guy eds

u should steal my job u could do it

e.kaspbrak
You're good at your job.

And fuck that, I want to watch your streams.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u like my streams ???

e.kaspbrak
I'm subscribed to you, moron.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
well yeah

I thought u just wanted to shit on me

or maybe see my pretty face 😉

e.kaspbrak
You're lucky I'm far away from you.

Richie pursed his lips together, typing before he could stop.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
no

no I'm not eds

He watched the message for a few seconds, eyeing the bubbles typing away and then disappearing. Like he was writing and rewriting everything, like he wasn't sure what to say. Richie wasn't sure what he would say if the tables were flipped.

So instead of assuming (despite his stomach twisting with anxiety), he patiently waited. (If you could count his foot bouncing so fast it was shaking his coffee table patient).

e.kaspbrak
I'm genuine.

You have to fucking know that at this point.

He thought for a second, smoothing the words over his skin.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
so am I

e.kaspbrak
That's not answering my question trashmouth.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I didn't know

e.kaspbrak
Really?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah

u r kinda a dick to me tbf

e.kaspbrak
That's just how I am.

Sometimes I'm a dick to people I care about, it happens.

Richie smiled again then, quietly absorbing the words. Eddie was such an interesting person, and Richie (un)surprisingly could not wait to know all the little Eddie-isms.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I care about u too spaghetti

There was a pause again, and Richie felt a little heavy for a second. Waiting.

e.kaspbrak
Mike told me about your parents.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
mikey told me about ur mom

vaguely

e.kaspbrak
Vaguely too.

Do you want to talk about it?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
do u eds?

e.kaspbrak
Eventually.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah me too

I wanna tell u eventually

e.kaspbrak
Richie?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah spaghetti?

e.kaspbrak
I like when you talk, even if it's the stupidest shit I've ever heard.

Richie laughed then, quietly, and something smoothed off his shoulders. The heaviness felt lighter. Just like it always did with Eddie somehow. His mind was quieter, calmer. He doesn't know how he does it, but he does.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I think that's the first time I've ever heard that from anybody eds

e.kaspbrak
Well, people are dumb as fuck.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u r not wrong

but thank u

means a lot from u

e.kaspbrak
What does that mean?

Richie paused, carefully, thinking over a response. It felt different this time, this conversation, he wasn't sure why. It just felt a little monumental, like they were crossing something, a milestone (as Steve, his therapist said).

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u r pretty cool too eds

even if u call me dipshit a lot

I still think u r pretty cool

e.kaspbrak
You are a dipshit.

But thank you.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
ahh good ole mean spaghetti

believe me nice eds is cute

but there's something special about grumpy lil eddie :)

e.kaspbrak
Ew.

Richie frowned. Did he say something?

e.kaspbrak
You called me Eddie.

Don't do that again.

He laughed out loud, something swirling around in his chest. It felt weird for a second, it had barely been a month knowing him, and even less texting him, but it felt right. Like they were meant to slot together. Like destiny (which was cliché as fuck).

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
sir yes sir 🫡

e.kaspbrak
You're such a dick.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
that's my name don't wear it out babey~

He smiled for a moment, dropping his phone onto his chest with a breath. And in that moment, his apartment felt a little less empty. Richie wasn't sure how to feel about that at all, but it felt good for now.

e.kaspbrak
Shithead.

Yeah, he thought to himself, I think it's pretty good.

Chapter Text

It was stream day.

Richie was skimming through some of the submitted games. He had a form where people could submit games they wanted him to play: it ranged from dating sims to horror games to Mario. He'd found one he liked early last week, but he knew it'd be long-term so he waited on it.

That being said, he'd already downloaded and was currently checking that it ran properly. He still had a few hours until the stream started up.

e.kaspbrak
You're streaming today, right?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah new game why

e.kaspbrak
What time?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
wow eds u call yourself a fan ?

e.kaspbrak
Your schedule is shit, you know that.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
it's at like 12

gonna be chowing down on stream

e.kaspbrak
I'll be off of work by then.

What game?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
that's for me to know and you find out spaghetti 😉

guess you'll just have to watch my stream :)

e.kaspbrak
I already am going to dipshit.

Richie laughed, he felt like he always was with Eddie. So fucking cheesy.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
no playing favorites here eds

e.kaspbrak
Whatever dickhead, I gotta get back to work. See ya then.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
see u spagheds :))

e.kaspbrak
I'm just going to ignore that fucking horrible nickname. Bye, Rich.

He smiled again, something about only his closest friends calling him Rich. It made him feel a little warm, and made him want to maybe run up and down the street -screaming about Eddie.

Luckily, he didn't.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

byeeeeeee

Richie huffed a breath out and kept working on his computer. It all seemed to work well, luckily. There was no troubleshooting that he had to run through for hours-

And then he got a text.

Staniel 🐦😤😠
Call me.

Shit. He'd forgotten to tell him like anything. Shit, had he figured it out? God, he was going to hear it. Like really hear it.

Or maybe something was wrong. Wrong enough to constitute a call. Fuck.

Richie didn't hesitate another second.

"Richie?" His voice crackled over the line (sometimes the distance really messed with their calls), "-Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, hey," Richie started quickly, "-Is everything okay?"

"Of course," Stanley reassured instinctively, before continuing, "-I just talked to Bev."

Fuck.

"I was going to tell you about Eds, I swear-"

"Eds?" He questioned, seemingly genuinely, "-That's the person in your chat, right? Bev just told me that you were talking to someone. Are you... Wait."

Richie spoke, a little nervously, "I might have found him on Instagram."

"The person you're talking to is... Eddie?"

"Yeah," he fidgetted with his fingers, "-the guy who cusses me out in chat."

"You're so fucked in the head," Stanley commented, flatly, "-How are you into that?"

"I don't know," he mindlessly added, "-but somehow he makes it cute, so that's where I'm at."

"Is he gay?"

They had like zero faith in him. Damn. Was he that much of a lost cause?

"Yeah, he is," Richie sighed out, "-I know I've had a shitty dating history, but fuck, man. Have some faith."

"I would," he replied, flatly, "-if you didn't have a terrible record otherwise."

"Oh, c'mon, Staniel," Richie offered, "-It's not that bad-"

"You haven't had a boyfriend since you became an official Twitch streamer, Rich," Stanley pointed out, "-and even then, that guy wasn't even out. He couldn't even take you on dates."

"And I was okay with that," Richie clarified, "-Not everyone feels comfortable with being out-"

"Richie," Stanley interrupted, sternly, "-it wasn't about personal preference, the guy was shitty."

Thinking back on it, he can kind of remember some shitty things the guy did. Like bash his love for comic books, tell him to shut up (not in the cute way), physically hide him from his friends and family-

"You deserve someone proud to be with you," he continued, interjecting into Richie's thought process, "-And I don't... I don't understand why you don't seem to know that."

"You're not the only one, Stanthony," he pursed his lips, somewhat deflecting (Richie was never really good at peeling back layers of himself), "-Steve tells me shit about it all the time, 'You seek validation in other people'. Blah, blah, blah."

"You know you pay a therapist to listen to them, right?"

"Obviously," he chimed in response, tapping his fingers along the desk -mindlessly eying the clock, "-I am. It's just... Your brain is wired a certain way, and sometimes it's hard to rewire it. If that makes any fucking sense."

"It strangely does," Stan commented, thoughtfully.

There was silence for a second, and it felt a little heavy on his shoulders. His love life really was in fucking shambles, huh. Richie wasn't sure anyone had actually loved him. Sure he'd heard the words, but it was never genuine. Always had... an agenda. Manipulation, or love-bombing (as Steve would say). Or at least he thought it was.

It kind of fucking sucked that he might be susceptible to that again, that he might have put himself right where he'd started. That Eddie held a lot in his hands because Richie had willingly put it there, that he could just do something-

"What about Eddie?"

Richie blinked, clearing his throat, "What about him?"

"Is he-" Stanley started before pausing, seemingly trying to figure out his words, "-Is he a good guy? Do you think he's actually... invested?"

"Well," he laughed a little nervously, "-there's fucking nothing to be invested in right now, Stanley."

"This wouldn't be as big as it is if that was true, Rich," he replied, swiftly, "-I know that."

Richie took a deep breath in, "Okay, yeah, I do. Mike... Alright, so apparently he lived where Mike and Ben did when they were younger?"

"The town in Maine?"

"Yeah," Richie quickly confirmed, "-Anyway, Mike sees Eds as an old friend, so he called me to make sure I was being... genuine-"

"Let me guess," Stan hummed, "-he called Eddie too? Asked him the same thing?"

"It's scary when you do that, Staniel," Richie responded, playfully, "-You're like some fucking prophet or something sometimes, it's scary as fuck-"

"Did Eddie tell you himself?" He continued, unwavering, "-That he was genuine?"

"Yeah," Richie swallowed, something in him deeply uncomfortable, "-yeah. Said that he likes when I talk and that sometimes he's a dick to people he cares about-"

"He likes when you talk?" Stan interjected, near immediately.

"I fucking know, right?" Richie replied laughing, the idea had been bouncing around in his head for a while, "-Isn't that batshit crazy?"

"Not entirely," Stanley replied, still ever-so-calm, and just seeming to process it. He always thought about what he was going to say before he said it, the exact opposite of Richie (most of the time anyway). He thinks it kind of why the two of them work so well together.

"It's just good," he continued after a moment, "-when has a guy you're with ever said they like that? That they like to listen to you?"

"First off, I'm not with Eddie," Richie corrected, mind humming with a hopeful 'not yet', "-Secondly... never. They always used to tell me to shut up, mostly. And not in the cute way that Spaghetti does."

He could nearly hear Stan's frown, "You know if we were friends back then, I would've kicked their asses and then yours for doing that to yourself, right?"

"'At's what happens when ya live in a town stuck in the eighties, pal," Richie chimed back in a strange southern accent (more hillbilly than beauty pageant), "-the internalized homophobia grabs ya by the ankles and drags ya-"

"I get it," Stanley interrupted, flatly.

He stopped the impression and then started up a little quietly, more genuine. He could tell when Stan meant no bullshit.

"I like him," Richie spoke, maybe a little louder and squeakier than expected but he'd never admit it, "-I really fucking like him."

Stan didn't say anything for a second, wordless. Once again probably debating what wise words he was going to graciously depart onto him-

"I'm glad," he said, "-I'm really glad, Richie."

And that was that.

It was about an hour before stream now, and his phone dinged.

It was embarrassing how much he hoped it was Eddie, and how much he deflated when it wasn't. He didn't deflated completely though, because it was Bev.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
give me Eddie's insta

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what why

reddy.bevvy ✔️
I wanna get to know him

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u tryna steal my mans marsh?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
he's gay

and if he's your friend rich he's gonna be mine too

so suck it up and give me his insta

God, he loved his friends. Especially his dear Bevvy, that one was something special.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
@/e.kaspbrak

He waited a moment, not sure if he should expect a reply. Beverly was a wildcard sometimes-

reddy.bevvy ✔️
thx

see u at the stream 😘😘😘

Richie let out a breath, something clawing up his stomach. His friends weren't going to harass him, were they? God, he'd worked so hard to not scare him away, it would be so fucked if they did. He might never forgive them, ever actually. And that was saying something because he fucking loved his friends.

After an hour of going between worrying and checking his equipment, the stream started.

Richie had actually prepped himself a bowl of Ramen that he currently was eating -waiting for his chat to flow in. He knew some people got off on the eating thing, and others found it gross, but that was in the character of his channel and himself so... he didn't really fucking care.

This time the game was in the title of the stream. One called The Quarry, some sort of choice-based game, people most certainly were going to die at his hands. Either for being stupid and getting them killed, or doing it purposefully. Richie didn't know which one would win this time.

"As long as I got my suit and tie, Imma give it up on the floor tonight," he murmured to himself, checking his audio.

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: what the fuck are you eating

"Eds!" He chimed happily, maybe a little too happily in retrospect, "-Ramen, it's lunch time, everyone should be chowing down."

trashy.tozier: 🍝🍝🍝

dizknees: eddie has arrived guys stream is legit now

babey_boy: SPAGHETTIIII

elite._.gamer: just here for the game but hi eddie

trashmouth-for-me: 🍝🍝🍝

girlie-pops: 🍝🍝🍝

trashy.tozier: I'm eating chicken fried rice

trashmouth-for-me: @/trashy.tozier food check !!!

hello>_<89: 🍝🍝🍝

girlie-pops: I'm eating toast w jelly

smell.ya.later: 🍝🍝🍝

dizknees: I'm eating leftover spaghetti ironically

trashmouth-for-me: @/eddie.kaspbrak watch out @/dizknees has a taste for your blood

hunny_bunny75: I'm new here but this is my favorite game ever

smell.ya.later: I'm eating ramen too !!! we are kindred spirits 🧘

trashy.tozier: @/hunny_bunny75 welcome ur in for a bumpy ride

bridger_my_ton: I'm eating a turkey sandwich

toziers-trash: 🍝🍝🍝 EDDIE

too.tough.to.cry: ice cream w chocolate sprinkles

"Hey motherfuckers," Richie started on instinct, "-I don't know shit about this game, other than it's one where people can die based on my choices-"

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: do you know how much sodium is in that shit

"Enough to matter," he laughed, "-apparently. Guys, do we feel li-"

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: do you even own any vegetables ???

"Spaghetti," he dramatically held a hand over his heart, feigning heartbreak, "-do you have no faith in me? Of course, I do. I've got baby carrots right in the fridge."

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: you should eat that instead dickweed

Richie fell into a little bit of an incredulous laugh, something swirling in his chest (he has odd ways of showing he cares but Richie was definitely into it). He pushed his lips together into a thin line, everything itching in him to listen. God, he was so gay-

"Well, guys," he laughed again, "-I don't think Eds here is gonna stop until I switch out my meal. So, I will be right back, do not blow yourselves up while I'm gone."

trashy.tozier: wait did that just happen

brilliant_minds: is that his bf or something

trashmouth-for-me: say that 🍝🍝🍝

benny.boy: where's richie?

trashy.tozier: @/brilliant_minds 👀👀👀

reddy.bevvy: @/benny.boy went to get some different food

all_i_say_is_beet: beet

toziers-trash: @/trashy.tozier no this is starting to make sense

stan.the.man: I've been trying to do that for years @/eddie.kaspbrak

smell.ya.later: @/trashy.tozier how the turntables are turning

barbie._.gurl34: has the stream started ?

In the silence of Richie's room, the alarm went off.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: I am not his boyfriend

trashy.tozier: that's suspicious that's weird

gay.shit.guy: 🌈🌈 GAY SHIT MENTIONED 🌈🌈

only-here-for-trashmouth: you could be though

ghoulie-boogie: when is he starting the game

dizknees: I smell a ship coming on

your._.mom: the question is do you want to be 🍝

girlie-pops: @/dizknees reddie ?

trashy.tozier: @/girlie-pops no wait THATS SO GOOD

should-i-stay69: is this the gay game ? About werewolves ?

elite._.gamer: @/should-i-stay69 there is a gay couple and it is about werewolves

baby_gurl456: just got here but I'm kinda invested in the 🍝🗑 drama

trashmouth-for-me: @/baby_girl456 NOT THE EMOJISSSS

trashy.tozier: guys he's coming back !!! spam the chat he can't know of our secrets !!!

Richie came back to a slew of chats, including letters and random emojis. He was only a little surprised his mods didn't do anything about it. It was Trashmouth Tozier, they did questionable shit. And he didn't disapprove of some spamming, not always.

"Jesus, guys," he laughed again, "-What the fuck did you do?"

They did not answer him for the rest of the stream. Initially, he just wanted to do a villain run but then he found out about the gays ("Wait guys, there's gay potential in this?! We have to save them, fuck-").

And Eddie didn't message again, surprisingly. Richie wasn't 100% sure why he took it so hard, but at the same time, he knew exactly why. It worried him a little bit, then, and then it worried him a lot when he got off stream to no messages.

He stared at his phone for the remainder of his day, just watching and waiting.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
eds?

He was probably just overthinking it. Like he always did. He might just need a day, they didn't have to message every minute of every day. They had actually already messaged that morning, so that was normal, so normal-

At least, that's what he'd tell himself when he went to sleep that night.

Chapter Text

Richie hasn't heard from him in a like a week and a half.

He saw that he read his message, and kind of felt a little like rotting away in bed. Like maybe he needed a month off, could he ask for that? Would his fans understand?

He was the kind of person to second guess everything he'd ever done, including the streams themselves. Like had he said something wrong? Came on too strong? The worst part was he didn't know.

Well, until Bev told him.

"Chat asked if he was your boyfriend," she'd said after Richie confided in her, "-I don't know if it has anything to do with it, but they did."

Richie was staring up at his ceiling, it was early in the morning. He knew that, too early. If he had to guess, it was around 2 or 3. He hadn't entirely been sleeping well recently (due to a lot of things some pretty obvious and others not), so this wasn't abnormal. Not really. There was something in him that was chastising himself, mostly because he had been stupid ('too clingy' his mind chimed in a voice he knew from a long time ago), and the other half was curious. So fucking curious.

That was the thing about Richie Tozier, he was a fucking curious guy. Maybe it was eating play-doh in kindergarten, or daring a boy to kiss him because it might feel more right than a girl did. He was brave, in a sort of stupid way. Or at least that's what he thought.

Stanley would probably say he's impulsive, but at the same time fearless. He always made sure to tell him that he was probably the bravest person he knew. Ever maybe. Richie didn't believe it but he thought about it a lot. Thought maybe he could believe it one day, or use it as motivation.

Right now, it felt a little like motivation.

He kinda moved on autopilot, just blindly grabbing his phone (it was 2 am going on 3), and opening Instagram. His fingers moving of their own accord. He was always good at just doing-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
is the idea of dating me so fucking bad ?

He thought initially, that he'd be mortified. That he'd be scared to fully chase him away, but something in him steeled. Something a little like bravery (if he was honest), but Richie wasn't really thinking of that then. All he wanted to know was why. Even though the reason might curl up into his chest and squeeze his heart so tight that it fucking breaks. Or add to a list of what he thinks is wrong with himself, maybe make him feel shitty beyond belief because he had really fucking liked him-

He had to know.

It was just in his blood. Maybe he could fix it for the next person, or just not do it anymore-

e.kaspbrak
It's not that, Richie.

You're a fucking great guy.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
right

u just ghosted me for funsies

e.kaspbrak
I'm being serious.

I didn't mean to ghost you. That's not what I wanted to happen.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
well it did

u actively did it

how can u not mean to do that ?

e.kaspbrak
It just happened!

I got fucking scared, okay?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
is it me ?

I just want to know

did I fuck it up ?

e.kaspbrak
Richie it's not you.

Something in him wanted to believe him. But it didn't make any sense. That wasn't... It never worked out for him-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
it's always me eds

always

so what did I do

e.kaspbrak
It's not you.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
it is

it has to be

I always fuck up

His fingers were still moving, another text on the edge of his fingertips. He was typing, and it was all coming out-

e.kaspbrak
Can I call you?

Richie's lips fell into a frown, and something in his stomach tightened. Old memories of "I wanted to do this in person" flickering through his head. Here it was. The talk. The talk of "You're too much" and "This won't work" and "You're too clingy"-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
eds just say it to me through text

I don't need a phone call

I know what u r going to say

e.kaspbrak
Don't just assume shit.

You don't know what I'm going to say, Richie.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I do

I've been through this before

just end it eds

just tell me that it was never what I thought it was

or maybe what I thought it could be

e.kaspbrak
I'm not doing that.

Can I call you?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
tell me what's wrong with me

is it talking too much?

is it being too clingy?

just tell me so I can fix it

e.kaspbrak
There's nothing wrong with you Rich.

Please, just let me call you.

I'll explain fucking everything.

Richie paused, trying to calm the burning of his eyes and the lodge in his throat. He really didn't want to fucking cry over someone again. He just got too attached. Like he always does.

He needs to listen to Steve, the guy always said that he needs to have a reality check sometimes. "It's okay to feel attached to someone, Richie," he'd said once, "-but you need to know when you're going a little too far. When you might hurt yourself." At the time, Richie just waved it off because he hadn't had to worry about it, at all. It had been ages since his last boyfriend and at the time, there were no potential people even near him. But now, here he was, fucked over... again. He just couldn't believe-

e.kaspbrak
Fuck it.

Before Richie could move to text anything at all, his screen changed and a cheery little tune echoed through the air. He felt a little frozen, staring at it.

e.kaspbrak is calling

His phone was vibrating in his hands, as he continued to stare -it looked a little like his glasses were smudged, but he was pretty sure it was just his eyes (blurry with tears). It took everything in him not to fold, the green button was right there, the option to hear him out laid out on the table, right in front of him. And Richie wanted it so fucking bad-

He answered.

All the breath in his chest halted, hitched at the silence. Like if he breathed, Eddie would see him. Know he was there. Even though he'd already answered it, which pretty much guaranteed that he knew-

"Richie?"

Here's the thing, right, so Richie never really thinks about consequences. Like the fact that, in answering the phone, he would hear Eddie's voice for the first time. And it might very well be cute, very cute. Or maybe hot, he couldn't decide. So, in the grand scheme of things, this was not good for him. Eddie was going to reject him, and all he could think about was that he had a cute voice.

"Rich, can you hear me?" The voice piped up again, and Richie recognized something then in the tone -worry. Eddie was worried. (He got it a lot to be fair.) A few emotions fluttered through him at that moment, some stuck on the way he said his name. Richie wanted to commit it to memory, change his ringtone-

"I know you're there, dipshit. So, fucking answer me."

Richie took a second, exhaling a breath, but still saying, "Eds?"

It might've come out cracked and a little wet, but Richie hoped to god Eddie couldn't tell. It would be worse if he felt bad while he was rejecting me. If I was fucking crying and that made him hesitate-

"Yeah," he spoke, softer -a little in disbelief, "-yeah. I'm here."

Richie closed his eyes for a second, trying to picture Eddie (who he only saw in Instagram posts) speaking with this voice. Like he was right in front of him, he wanted to see what it would look like. He hoped he shriveled his nose up in a cute way when something smelled bad, or he bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile-

Focus, Richie, his mind chimed, we think he's literally ending things (were they even a thing?) and you're fawning over him. What the fuck.

"I am too," Richie added -awkwardly.

"Well, fucking obviously," Eddie spoke, near instinctively (something in Richie swirled that they slotted so naturally together), "-I called you."

"To say what exactly?" Richie offered up carefully (for himself or Eddie, he didn't really know).

There was a heavy sort of silence then, the kind that splayed across his shoulders at like 3 am when he couldn't sleep. The terrible kind, the uncomfortable kind. If he was any sort of self-reflective, he would probably say that explains why he talks so much because he's afraid of the silence-

"Do you remember when Mike called you?" Eddie asked, voice low, "-And... And how he talked about my Mom?"

Richie replied, quietly (trying not to break this moment), "Yeah, I do."

"I wanna-" he started, before faltering and letting out a big breath, "-I wanna tell you about her."

"Eds," Richie interrupted, "-You don't have to do all this. You can just say-"

"Just shut the fuck up for once," Eddie exhaled, exasperated, "-Let me talk."

Before he could stop himself, he chimed back with a louder voice, hand coming to naturally salute, "Sir, yes, sir!"

The little laugh that Eddie choked out nearly sent Richie into cardiac arrest. His brain buzzed to a low static hum, and heart squeezed in his chest. This was so fucked. Maybe he should just hang up-

"You're such an asshole," Eddie commented, laughing a little through it again (kinda like he was trying to hide it though). Richie wanted to make him full-body laugh so hard that it made his skin fucking burn. He had the urge to keep trying. Desperately keep trying. Because if this was the last time, he really wanted to hear it. He might die never having heard it, how the hell was he supposed to do that?

And then, he started.

"I grew up with Mike and Ben," Eddie explained, "-in the middle of fucking nowhere Maine."

Richie almost said 'I know', but he could tell this was very sensitive. There were boundaries, and he understood them.

He kept going, words slowly making their way out of his lips, "My Dad died when I was really little. No one knew it was coming, especially not Mom. And I was too young to know him, I think, but I still missed him... a lot."

Something in Richie's chest faltered. Was he really going to end it? Because this really didn't fucking sound like i-

"All I remember is that he was sick like out of fucking nowhere, and he died too quick to figure it out," Eddie breathed out, "-and I think that's probably where my Mom started."

"Started what?" It slipped out before he could stop it, and he immediately recanted, "-Shit, sorry, I didn't-"

"Relax, dick," he responded, laughing a little (it made Richie's head swirl, more) again, "-I think it helps. Hearing you, I think it helps."

Richie had no fucking clue what to say to that. His voice? Comforting? Was he dreaming right now-

Before he could get into it too much, Eddie continued, asking, "Have you ever heard of Munchausen Syndrome by proxy?"

Richie paused a second, thinking.

"I think-" he started, trying to map out the path in his head, "-I think so. That's the uh... shit where you think you're sick but you're not, right?"

"Munchausen Syndrome is," Eddie confirmed, "-but by proxy is doing it to someone else. Like..." he swallowed heavily, "-Like your own kid."

Richie's lips fell into a frown, "Eds, if you don't wanna talk about this, you don't have to. Seriously, it's okay. I don't have to know-"

"I want to," he interrupted, swiftly, "-I wouldn't fucking tell you if I didn't want to, Richie."

He fell a little silent for a second (he wants to tell me), and quietly responded, "Okay."

"My Mom... Because of Dad's death, or maybe she was always this way I'm not really fucking sure," Eddie explained further, "-She started thinking I was sick all the time. That I... That every time I left the house I could get sick. That I would get sick."

Richie just listened.

"She hammered it into my head so hard that I used to carry around a fanny pack full of medical supplies-"

"Cute," Richie said, involuntarily.

Eddie laughed again, but this time it was more of a giggle. The soft warm kind that made Richie want to frolic through meadows or curl up in a ball under the warmth, enjoy it. It shot something through him that he could make him laugh at all. He'd always loved making people laugh, but Eddie? He thinks he's been waiting on one particular laugh his entire fucking life.

"I seriously think you need to get your head checked," Eddie finally responded, and somehow Richie could tell he was smiling, "-Were you fucking dropped as a baby? Multiple times?"

"As much as I would love to answer your question, Spaghetti," Richie responded, in a prim proper voice, "-I am not at liberty to know. You see, dear Eduardo, when I was mayhaps dropped, I would've been a baby-"

"Eduardo?" Eddie commented, and Richie could nearly see him scrunch up his nose in disgust.

"First you say, don't call me Eddie dickweed," Richie lists off, "-then you say that's not my name, I don't like it, they're stupid-"

"They are stupid, dickweed," he replied, "-but I like them. For some weird fucking reason."

Richie felt his heart flutter in his chest, before asking, "How does that make sense?"

"You're stupid," Eddie added -a little too nonchalantly, "-and I like you."

God, he was so fucking gay. Incredibly gay. Beyond comprehension. It was in his blood. Which one of his parents gave him the gay gene-

Richie sputtered out, awkwardly, "I like you too, Eds."

Eddie didn't say anything for a second. And Richie thought maybe he wasn't going to.

"Good," Eddie spoke, awkward too, but very, very headstrong. It was with a lot of conviction, so much so that if Eddie said anything in that tone, Richie would probably believe it was fucking law.

And then, it shifted right back into place.

"Before you fucking distracted me," Eddie chastised, "-what was I talking about?"

"Your little fanny pack," Richie was quite literally still picturing it in his head, actually.

He could almost tell Eddie wanted to say something about it, but he decidedly didn't.

"Right," he said instead, and Richie could hear him shift -could feel the nerves build up in him (somehow he had the urge to soothe), "-my Mom made me scared of everything. She wouldn't let me leave the fucking house, ever, she home-schooled me, and I had no fucking friends. And on top of it all, I was okay with it because she framed the world as this big, bad place that could only hurt me. She even made me take pills, placebos, I used to call them gazebos when I was too young to understand it-"

"Cute," Richie said again -that time maybe a little voluntarily, before clarifying, "-not the Mom thing, but the... the gazebo thing."

Eddie laughed again, just a little tiny one (Richie could barely catch it), "Are you just gonna say that about fucking everything that I do?"

"I dunno," Richie teased, "-You are pretty cute, Eds."

"You're such a dick, trashmouth."

"That's my name, don't wear it out," Richie chimed instinctively.

There was a pause after that, playfulness dissipating in the air. It made Richie want to squirm a little. He was never too good at seriousness. Never. Hence the jokes while Eddie was talking (although, he was pretty sure bringing him back from the edge was the main reason). It felt a little like he was trying to think of what to say next, or if he wanted to say it at all.

"She made me into a fucking health freak," he explained -abruptly, "-I worry about every possibility of sickness in the book, I carry germ-x around with me in my pocket-"

"Is that why you knew about the lack of sleep shit, and-" Richie questioned, "-why you wanted me to eat something else?"

"Yeah," Eddie answered -frankly.

"So you were just worried about me?" Richie clarified, carefully.

"Well, yeah, but-"

Richie's heart skipped a beat in his chest. Maybe he really wasn't going to end things. Whatever they were.

"-that whole thing on stream, it reminded me of my Mom," Eddie clarified, and Richie could nearly hear the nerves crawling up his throat again, "-and I promised myself that I wouldn't be controlling of people I care about like she was. And then I, and then I did it. To you of all people-"

"Eds."

"-I was just like her. I told you what to do-"

"Eds-"

"-And I know that's how trauma shit works for whatever, you get used to the cycle-"

"Eds-"

"-But I promised myself, promised. And then I did it to you, the person I think I care about the most in the world-"

He had to process that one a second, but still moved forward, "Eds-"

"-And I was like my Mom to you. I was neurotic like I always am-"

"Eddie, baby, breathe," Richie spoke, loud in a gentle sort of way, but low enough to not bother the neighbors, "-You're gonna pop a fucking blood vessel, or maybe send yourself into a heart attack. And to be honest, I really don't want you to die."

There was silence on the other side of the line, but if he focused enough, he could hear frantic breaths (not as fast as they once were, but still).

"Do it with me. In," Richie started, and he could hear Eddie sucking in a breath, "-out. In, out-"

They continued like that, for longer than Richie expected to. But he didn't have a problem with it, all he really wanted was for Eddie to calm down. To bring him back down to earth, no matter how long it took. A little like it was what he was built for, and in another life, he'd been doing it for a lot longer. It felt natural.

He waited until he couldn't quite hear his breaths so loud anymore. Until it seemed comfortingly quiet.

"You okay?" Richie spoke -gently, waiting a moment.

There was just a second of silence.

"Yes, yeah," he seemed to swallow, "-I'm okay. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Richie replied nearly instant, impulsive (brave maybe), "-like fucking ever, Eds."

Eddie was slow to respond, "Why not?"

He swallowed, hesitating (don't scare him away), but there was something else. Eddie had just been so genuine, who was he to hold back?

"You're like my favorite person," he added, laughing nervously but entirely genuine.

"Seriously?"

"Of course, yeah," Richie laughed, "-I know I talk a lot of shit, but not now. And-"

Eddie didn't say anything.

"-You're not your Mom, Eds. That... On the stream, you were just worried about me. If I didn't want to listen, I could've said no. I'm not that much of a bitch."

There was a silence, and Richie wondered for a minute if he said too much. It only lasted a second.

"Who told you that shit about yourself?"

"What?" Richie questioned -a little startled.

"Earlier," Eddie clarified, somewhat frustrated (Richie was not sure where exactly it came from), "-all that shit about you talking too much and being too clingy. Or... Or that it was always your fault?"

"I, um," Richie started, a little lost, "-old boyfriends and like... high-school bullies? But, uh, mostly old boyfriends."

"Old boyfriends?" Eddie stressed out -something fierce in his tone, "-Are you serious?"

"Uh, yeah," Richie responded -blankly.

"What kind of fucking dicks are you dating?" Eddie asked -seemingly genuinely.

"Shitty ones," Richie laughed a little nervously -deflecting, "-I guess I'm kinda used to like closeted guys, or like, the ones who don't really want to be seen with m-"

"What the fuck?"

"Yeah, I-" Richie swallowed, "-I have this thing about uh, affection. If they give it to me... I'm pretty desperate for it, so I just... I just take it where I can get it, I guess."

"You have to fucking know you deserve better than that, Rich," Eddie breathed out -voice unshakable, "-you have to."

Richie pressed his lips together for a moment, letting the words swim across his skin. He never really believed it, never, but it was gaining on him. From everyone, he got the same thing. You deserve better. And it really was so hard to believe-

"My parents don't give a fuck about me," he spoke suddenly, laughing wetly, "-they haven't like my whole life."

"Richie..."

"My sister, Maggie-" he sniffled, wiping at his eyes, "-she's the golden child, all honors, and she's on her way to be a fucking doctor. I told them I was a Twitch streamer, an official one, and all they gave me was a text. They didn't even fucking call me-"

"Richie."

"-I mean you fucking have a child, you make a human being, and then just ditch them? Because the second one is better? Who the fuck does that shit?"

"Nobody worth shit," Eddie affirmed, tone heavy with frustration.

"That's-" Richie swallowed, "-Steve, my therapist, says that's where my whole affection and attention thing comes from. That I just want it so bad because I never got it growing up. It's why I'm so... much."

"Rich, that's not bad," Eddie interrupted, something biting in his tone (Richie could tell it wasn't at him, not really), "-You're saying that like it's fucking bad."

"Eds, come on," he laughed incredulously, "-you know that I can be way too much. I'm... I'm a lot. You call me out on that shit-"

"Richie, fucking listen to me-" he stressed, and Richie felt his lips snap shut, "-I call you out on stupid shit, and you do say stupid shit-"

Richie laughed a little.

"-But, you're not too much. At least not to me," Eddie continued, sturdy (so sturdy it shook through his bones),"-and frankly anyone who says anything else is a dumbass and not fucking important."

"Eds," he tried but it was weak.

"And stop fucking talking about yourself like that," Eddie continued, and Richie felt a little like his heart might explode, "-you're one of fucking kind, Rich. I have never met a person like you, and that makes you fucking special."

Richie took a shaky breath in, and felt something twist in his chest.

"And the people who don't see that," Eddie continued, firmly, "-can also go fuck themselves."

"Thanks, Eds," he replied, a little breathless. He didn't know what else to say.

"You don't have to thank me," Eddie repeated, "-like fucking ever."

Richie smiled a little, laughing. He couldn't believe where he was at the moment. Or what he was hearing. At all. Even still, his mouth moved.

"So you're not," he just started talking, "-you're not ending it."

"You're such a dipshit," Eddie chimed in response, and he could tell he was smiling again, "-It, hasn't even started."

"Fair point," Richie commented.

And then, there was a pause. Like there was some hesitation.

"I wouldn't mind it," he finally said.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Mind what?"

Eddie took a deep breath, and kind of muttered, "If it started."

Richie's heart lept into his throat.

"Like," Eddie cleared his throat, "-Like, um, fucking talking... or whatever-"

"Talking?" Richie grinned so big that it physically hurt a little, "-What are we sixteen? Do you want to go official? Put a little EK in my bio with a little heart-"

"Fuck you," he interjected, and Richie could almost tell he was flustered, "-I take it back."

"No takebacksies, sorry Spaghetti," Richie chimed back -still smiling, "-You opened the door, I get to shut it."

"Do you want to?" Eddie suddenly asked, quieter.

"Want to what?" Richie questioned, genuinely confused by the tone shift.

"Shut the door."

Richie grinned possibly brighter. He felt like he could launch into the sun and burn alive, and still be pretty happy. Joyous. He could frolic in a meadow, holding his arms out, and fall back into the flowers. All while Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten boomed through the air.

"No, Eds," he could tell that you could hear his smile (he hoped Eddie could), "-I'm leaving that thing wide fucking open. I'd open it more if I could actually-"

"Okay, I get it," Eddie laughed, and Richie felt something in him twirl. Cheesily.

And then, there was another pause.

"Are we okay?" Richie asked, carefully.

"Yeah," Eddie answered -unflinchingly, "-better than okay."

Richie wanted to throw his pillow across the room, and kick his feet, and write in his diary (if he had one) or maybe doodle little hearts in the margins of it-

"One more thing, actually," Eddie interrupted his thought process.

"Yeah, Eds?"

"Do you remember your exes' Instagrams?"

Richie barked out a laugh, and he fell into laughter for a few seconds, "Seriously?"

"What?" Eddie was completely serious (it only made Richie laugh harder), "-They need to be fucking put in their place."

"Eds, my hero," he stressed out in a higher-pitched voice (like a damsel).

"You're such a shithead," Eddie was laughing again, and adding on, "-and I'm serious. Send them to me."

Richie laughed again and felt something flutter in his chest. He's not ending it. God, he's not ending it-

"I know, Eds, I know."

Chapter Text

"Hey motherfuckers," Richie grinned, clapping his hands, "-Sorry about the wait, but we are back into The Quarry today."

The chat was filled with lots of different emojis, mostly excitement. Richie took it as a good sign, grinning wide. Maybe a little too wide, it was probably the biggest he'd ever grinned on stream. To be fair, he'd had a very good few days. Great days even-

reddy.bevvy donated $10: earth to richie can you hear me

"Shit," he cursed, "-fuck, sorry. I zoned out."

toziers-trash: guys does anyone think he's like strangely happy

girlie-pops: ✨️ adhd tingz ✨️

elite._.gamer: the Quarry again ?

trashmouth-for-me: @/toziers-trash that's kind of fucked up to say

younganddumb: adhd king I feel so seen

dizknees: I'm feeling an absence of Eddie in this chili's tonight

wait_weight87: yooooo this game is so good

too.tough.to.cry: seen this game before so hype to see trashmouth ruin it

genuine._.disappointment: @/dizknees no 🍝 :(

trashy.tozier: @/toziers-trash @/trashmouth-for-me no no I see the vision

big.bill: good choice rich

"Thank you, Billy," Richie grinned, dramatically placing a hand on his heart, before adding, "-you should thank chat though, they suggested it."

There was a slew of 'you're welcome's in the chat, and Richie watched them go by. He waited a few seconds trying pick out some messages.

"'Are you gonna go the villain route?' Okay, so, I was. Burning flames, everyone dead, etcetera, etcetera, but-" Richie leveled a look at the camera, "-chat told me there were gays. And then, I met the gays. And killing Dylan would in essence be killing myself. So-"

trashy.tozier: no ur right u r so dylan coded

elite._.gamer: so a good run then ?

girlie-pops: dylan = richie

dizknees: secret nerd who is gay meet secret nerd who is also gay

babey_boy: but do u ship them 👀

girls.girl: personally I'm more into emma and abby

hog-inthebog: how do u feel about laura and max tho

toziers-trash: @/dizknees now kiss

the.losers.are.better: ryan is bi put respect on the name 😤

trashmouth-for-me: no u and dylan are carbon copies what

tozier_babeyyy: there's some jacob in u don't lie

thuh-quarry: my fav is abby

trashy.tozier: @/tozier.babeyyy no u r so right he's a healthy mix

"Is Ryan the other one? The quiet guy? I know Dylan because he's fucking obvious," Richie commented, before switching into a southern accent, "-And I can say that because I am a full-blooded homosexual-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: what the fuck did you just call yourself ?

"Eds!" Richie chimed, as happy as he always was (or maybe just a lil more, he'd never tell), "-And I said, that I'm-"

mike.me.up donated $1: no need to repeat yourself rich

"Okay, okay," he laughed, pretending to bow slightly, "-the beep beeps have been respected."

toziers-trash: EDDIEEEE

trashmouth-for-me: 🍝🍝🍝

trashy.tozier: EDDIE 🍝🍝🍝

dizknees: the king has arrived 🍝

girlie-pops: 🍝🍝🍝

genuine._.disappointment: yes 🍝 :)

the.losers.are.better: @/dizknees is Richie not the king ?

reddy.bevvy: 🍝🍝🍝

dizknees: @/the.losers.are.better there can be two kings have you ever heard of gay people

trashy.tozier: BEVVVV ??

tilt_my_towers87: 🍝🍝🍝

trashmouth-for-me: reddy.bevvy eddie.kaspbrak collab when

babey_boy: 🍝🍝🍝

genuine._.disappointment: @/trashmouth-for-me Eddie stream reveal ???

the.losers.are.better: @/dizknees AHJZHASNJSJH

peanutbutter-butterpops: the quarry is elite

Richie laughed, eyes flashing over his chat (they seemed to be as into him as he was), "Spaghetti, you're stealing my stream."

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: maybe it's because you're doing jackshit

Richie laughed even harder, before shaking it off, "Alright, motherfuckers, Eds says let's get a move on. So let's start this shit."

They went through the motions, they had just introduced the premise and most of the characters at this point (he had no fucking clue what was going on with Laura and Max), and Richie was completely on edge waiting for the twist. There was always some evil, or some shit.

"Are we playing Truth or fucking Dare right now?"

They were, in fact.

Richie laughed at the situation, before faltering.

"Wait," he spoke, suddenly, "-it's not subtextual gay shit, it's real gay shit? I can kiss Dylan?"

elite._.gamer: they're much better together anyway

trashy.tozier: oh my sweet summer child

thuh-quarry: him and ryan def trauma bond through this

trashmouth-for-me: queerbaited one too many times ✋️😔

babey_boy: the girl doesn't even look that into it tbh

reddy.bevvy: @/eddie.kaspbrak check ur dms

peanutbutter-butterpops: @/babey_boy that's because she isn't

toziers-trash: @/reddy.bevvy WHATTTT

tozier_babeyyy: WAITTTT BEV AND EDDIE COLLAB WHEN

too.tough.to.cry: gay gay gay gay

genuine._.disappointment: new loser reveal 👀

eddie.kaspbrak: @/reddy.bevvy 👍

dizknees: @/reddy.bevvy @/eddie.kaspbrak what the fuck ???

Richie smiled a little, trying to chase it down (he was so fucked about Eddie, he was done for), eyes settling back on the screen, and promptly kissing Dylan. Obviously.

"Why are straight people so messy?" He chimed after a moment, watching a character (Abby, he gathered) run off into the woods, "-Like I know she was trying to show Jacob they're through or whatever, but fuck, man. That's your best friend's guy."

And then it all pretty quickly went to shit.

Richie, although he tried to prepare for it, was not entirely ready for it. He spent the rest of the stream asking chat what was going on, and somehow, they all formed an allegiance not to spoil it. When he was literally asking for it, which was kinda fucked. But it's his fans, so what can he say?

"Fuck, guys," he spoke, frantic later in the game, "-fuck, it's Dylan guys! He got fucking bit, what the fuck do I do? How do I save him?"

His eyes flashed to chat.

"I have to cut off his fucking hand?!"

It was a good fucking stream, he knows that much. And he really enjoyed himself, and got his heart pumping in his chest (for more reasons than one, wink-wink). It was a surprisingly fun game, and a lot more fucking nerve-wracking when you actually gave a fuck about the characters. He should probably do that more often-

He was in the kitchen now, phone laid on the counter as he made him a sandwich (with whatever the fuck he had in his fridge). Fingers dusting over cabinets, he debated exactly what he wanted and if it even actually mattered. He just kind of wanted to eat-

Ding.

It was embarrassing how fast he ran over to pick up his phone.

reddy.bevvy ✔️ has added you to 'the losers club 2.0'

Richie frowned for a moment, clicking through, they already had a groupchat. It wasn't used all the time, they mostly just used discord, honestly but still. It existed.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
bev ? what is this ?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
a new groupchat

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
we already have one ?

stan.the.man ✔️
Hate to say this but Richie's right.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
wow staniel, right where it hurts 😔

reddy.bevvy ✔️
shut up and let me do something

mike.me.up ✔️
you guys are in troubleee

Before Richie could type out a response to that, right in the chat, a message popped up.

reddy.bevvy ✔️ added e.kaspbrak

Richie blinked once and then twice, something twisting in his stomach. He was excited but at the same time, he really fucking hoped Bev had talked to Eddie about this beforehand. Richie didn't want him to be shoved in situations that would make him uncomfortable-

reddy.bevvy ✔️
everyone meet Eddie !!!

benny.boy.official ✔️
hi eddie !!! hope you're doing okay

mike.me.up ✔️
hey Eddie !!

stan.the.man ✔️
Richie's Eddie?

Richie blinked at the message, and debated typing out a few different things. Like maybe 'I wish' or 'yeah, eds from my chat' or maybe he could just leave the groupchat in like total-

e.kaspbrak
Yes, I'm Richie's Eddie.

Richie grinned and felt his heart flip in his chest. My Eddie. It made something zing down his spine, and reminded him of that photo of Eddie smiling with the scrunched-up nose-

big.bill ✔️
I feel like I'm missing something

Who is Eddie?

Huh, did he never hear any of this? Did nobody tell him? Bill was super oblivious though, honestly, so he could've been told and not understood it for what it was.

stan.the.man ✔️
Have you really not heard anything?

Like at all?

big.bill ✔️
What, are you and Richie dating or something?

Is this like meeting the parents?

Richie again had a few things flutter through his mind, an assortment of answers. Some mortifying and some more acceptable. Some putting literally himself on the line, others a little insulting honestly-

e.kaspbrak
Not yet.

God, he had the instinct to just twirl like he was seven and trying to be a ballerina. Or maybe like he had a pretty, wispy skirt on and it would flow prettily in the wind as he spun. He really debated asking Bev for one, because that sounded fucking sick as hell. He could wear a little sunhat, and make his hair actually look good, maybe Eddie could help with that actually. He knew all that medical shit, right, so he should be able to-

mike.me.up ✔️
I think you killed him.

stan.the.man ✔️
No, he's still reading messages.

He's probably just taking in the fact that someone actively wants to date him.

big.bill ✔️
He does collectively date assholes.

Richie rolled his eyes, and typing with a breath.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
okay enough of the let's bully Richie train guys

e kaspbrak
It's not bullying if it is factual, dipshit.

Richie laughed, tipping his head back a second. He felt a little like he couldn't stop smiling. Maybe ever.

stan.the.man ✔️
I like you, Eddie.

Maybe you'll finally knock some sense into Richie's big ass head.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I will leave this gc guys

e.kaspbrak
No, you won't.

Yeah, his mind chimed, as he smiled too big (or maybe just right), no I won't.

It was like a week later, and the whole groupchat thing was going really well. After confirming with Eddie that he had, in fact, wanted to be in it, everyone really seemed to meld together. Richie was pretty much floating on cloud nine, he loved his fucking friends and Eddie was getting along with them. That was like dream fucking scenario for him. So, yeah, life was pretty fucking great, actually.

Now though, Richie was just wandering around his apartment, fidgeting with figurines, bored as hell. Eddie was at work, or else he'd be bothering the fuck out of him. Poking and prodding unlike anyone else. He had no limits with Eds, mostly because he physically told him he liked him. He enjoyed his fucking presence. Which was a first for one Richie Tozier.

He was gonna milk the shit out of it.

He groaned, throwing himself back into one of his beanbag chairs (he almost ate shit actually, but no one was there to see it). He stared up at his ceiling for a few moments, just eyeing different patterns -he tried to trace a few things. Shapes and patterns and sometimes a face, and freckles, and a cheesy big ass smile-

God, he was so fucked. So gay, so very gay.

He likes you too, Richie reassured, he told you that. And you believe him.

He pursed his lips for a second and blew out a raspberry. His hand was splayed along his chest, he tapped his fingers to an imaginary beat. Or maybe it was Brittney Spears, actually-

And then, he had a stray thought. Would he video chat? If I asked, would he say yes?

Richie thought about it for a second, letting the thought mull over in his mind. To be honest, he'd really only let Eddie choose the pace. And that was fine, it kinda felt right. Richie didn't want to overstep either, honestly, so it kinda worked out that way. Everything they do actually kinda fit, it was fucking really weird. And also very fucking awesome. He felt oddly in place, like he fucking belonged there.

Eddie was just... how could he even describe it? Well, obviously, his favorite person-

His phone rang with the same sort of melodic chime as last time, and Richie felt it vibrate against his chest.

Once again, it was very embarrassing how quickly he flipped his screen to himself.

e.kaspbrak is calling

Richie furrowed his eyebrows for just a second, before answering. Was he not at work? Did he leave early? Was everything okay?

He answered anyway.

The first thing he heard was rushed steps and the buzz of crowds. He even thought he heard some cars honking, it sounded like... well, it sounded like the streets of New York.

"Eds?" Richie questioned, concerned, "-Are you okay?"

It took a second, the cars still filling his ears. Richie nearly booked a flight right then, he was so fucking worried.

"Eds? Seriously, you're freaking me out-"

"I quit my fucking job," Eddie snapped out, big huffs of breath.

Richie paused, taking that information in, "What?"

"It was that same fucking coworker," he continued, ranting, "-she wouldn't fucking leave me alone, so I told her I was talking to someone-"

Richie's brain flatlined for a second. Right.

"-and she threw a customer's order on me! Burning hot fucking coffee, and then, my manager fucking got onto me-"

"Eds, breathe-"

"-And I just have had enough of this shit, I hate New York, I hate my job-"

"Eds-"

"-and I just fucking quit. I quit, Richie."

"Eds," Richie spoke, calmly, "-breathe."

He heard the crash of his breaths through the phone, he couldn't tell if it was frustration or panic. It was maybe both. No, definitely both.

"Fuck, Richie," Eddie said suddenly, much more frantic, "-I just quit-"

"Eds, seriously, calm down," Richie spoke louder, "-You're gonna be fine. You said you hated it anyway-"

"Richie," Eddie breathed out, "-I have to pay rent. I have to survive-"

He said it before he could stop himself, "Just come to California."

There was a breath, and Richie almost just hung up out of embarrassment. God, he really needed to get a hold of himself. Richie had to get control of that, seriously. It was such a fucking problem-

Eddie spoke, suddenly much more calm (mostly disbelief), "What?"

"What?" Richie repeated. Hoping whatever God above didn't hate him.

"What did you just say?"

"Me?" Richie asked, blankly.

"Fucking obviously you, dickweed," Eddie stressed, somewhat frustrated, "-What did you say?"

"I said," Richie cleared his throat, stating awkwardly, "-you can just come to California... If you, If you want to-"

Eddie interrupted, "Seriously?"

"I, uh," Richie swallowed, he didn't know what was wrong to say here, "-Yeah."

"Really?" Eddie asked in a tone he couldn't quite read. (Was this bad or good? He had no fucking clue.)

"Yeah, Eds," he spoke -carefully, "-I have an apartment, and I stream and stuff so... you don't have to worry about money. Until you get back on your feet, I mean. I don't... I can help after too but I didn't think... It's not that I won't pay for your living, but I just figured-"

"Richie," Eddie leveled, "-shut the fuck up."

Richie muttered out sheepishly, "Yeah, okay."

"Are you-" Eddie continued, "-Are you seriously offering? For me to come to California with you?"

"Well, Bev has an apartment too," Richie responded, deflecting, "-if that makes you uncomfortable, she probably has an extra bedroom actually-"

"If I'm going to go to California, I'm living with you, moron. Obviously."

Richie's brain flatlined again (his heart beating so fast he felt like it should shoot out of his chest like in those cartoons), and he thought for a second he might just die here, in a beanbag chair. Surrounded by his shit, and on the phone with Eddie. That might actually be a pretty good way to die. Fucking focus, Richie. You have to respond-

"Okay," he replied, blankly (awkwardly even).

"So?" Eddie pushed.

"So what?"

"God, are you even fucking listening to me?" He asked, but Richie could tell it was rhetorical, "-Are you seriously offering me to come to California?"

"Yeah, of course, Eds," Richie chimed, instinctively.

The phone was silent for a few seconds, and Richie swore he could physically hear his heart beating. Pounding actually, like he'd just run a mile. Maybe 10. It made him wonder if Eddie could hear it. The whole situation settled on his shoulders.

You haven't even videochatted, and you offer him to live with you? God, you are so fucking stupid-

"Three months," Eddie suddenly spoke.

Richie pursed his lips for a second, confused, "What?"

"I've got three months left of like... rent that I paid," Eddie clarified.

"Oh-kay," Richie commented, "-and what exactly are you trying to say here, Eds?"

"I can leave," Eddie continued, "-after... after three months I can leave."

Richie's heart skipped a beat.

"Because I'm not wasting fucking money," Eddie added -abruptly, "-not even for you."

Richie choked out a laugh (and decidedly ignored that last part). Eddie did that a lot, actually, made Richie laugh. He kind of felt like Eddie was the funniest person on the planet sometimes. Though, he might be a little biased.

"I get it, Eds," Richie replied, still kind of laughing, before asking, "-What about food and shit? Do you need-"

"No," Eddie interrupted, speaking casually, "-I have like three emergency funds."

"You have three emergency funds?" Richie asked in disbelief, "-Why were you even fucking stressed Spaghetti?"

"Well," he seemed to pause a second, almost a little embarrassed, "-I also kind of fucking hated my life, that was also part of the problem."

And you won't hate it here? Richie's mind dinged, and his heart fluttered in his chest, Because of me?

"Wow, Spagheds, that stings-"

"Not you, fuckface," Eddie cut him off, near immediately, "-I don't hate the you part. Just... Just everything else."

Richie felt a little like the breath was stolen out of his lungs. How many times can you flatline before you're actually dead? Was there an experiment on that? Actually, that would kind of be fucked up, maybe there's a statistic he can look up-

"I'll come to California," Eddie spoke again, suddenly fully confident in his words, "-in three months, I'll come to California."

"To live with me?" Richie asked, maybe smiling just a little. (Okay, a lot.)

"Have you listened to a word I fucking said, dipshit?" Eddie asked, but Richie could tell he was smiling, "-Yes, obviously."

"Okay," Richie grinned, "-three months."

"Three months," Eddie confirmed -a little cheerily. It made Richie's head spin.

And then, Richie's mouth started moving again (without his permission, of course).

"Are we dating?"

Eddie snorted in response, and Richie felt a wave of heat smooth over his face. Right, his mouth fucking wins again-

"You are such a freak," Eddie spoke through laughter, "-You ask me to fucking move in with you, and then you ask if we're dating?"

"Well," Richie started, embarrassed beyond fucking belief, "-I just say stupid shit and then... and then ya know-"

"Richie," he interrupted, voice suddenly serious (in a calming sort of way actually), "-stop. You're doing that thing where you assume shit again."

Richie's lips snapped shut.

"We talk like every fucking day, we flirt like every fucking day-" Eddie continued, "-It's just very obvious, dipshit."

"Yeah, but you just said we were talking-"

"Because I wasn't sure if it was like... right," Eddie clarified, suddenly flustered (it made Richie grin so big he wanted to explode) "-Like if you... You know."

"I know what?" Richie asked -innocently.

"Oh, fuck you, trashmouth," Eddie puffed out, and Richie almost felt fucking giddy. He probably looked so fucking cute right now.

"I'm just asking a question, Spaghetti," Richie leveled back, but this time he couldn't hide the smile in his voice.

"You're such a dick."

Eddie was laughing then, just a little. He was trying to hide it, but it made Richie burst into laughter -full-blown, full-body laughter. He heard Eddie pipe up on the other side of the line, through laughs of his own.

"Don't fucking laugh at me, fuckwad," he seemed to try to convey seriousness.

Richie responded, "I can't help it, you're just too fucking cute, Eds-"

Eddie replied, instantly (laughs sneaking through the words), "You are clinically insane."

They laughed like that for a while, any time it died down the other one would just start laughing harder. It was like a domino effect. Richie was pretty sure he'd never laughed so hard in his life, actually. And he had some fucking funny friends, so that was saying something.

When it actually started to die down, the comfortable silence wasn't scary to Richie for once. Didn't mean he didn't want to fill it though.

"Eds?"

He got a low hum in response.

And Richie hesitated only for a second, words and thoughts skimming through his head. There was nerves there, but they were hard to focus on, not with everything else. He felt better than at peace then, his mind was still going but with nicer things now. Better things. Happy.

He spoke, as natural as breathing, "Date me, Eddie Kaspbrak?"

Eddie paused, only for a second.

"I'll date the shit out of you, Richie Tozier."

Chapter Text

Richie woke up to approximately 50 messages. Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating, but squinting at his phone in the early morning (it was like 10:30 maybe) really exaggerated the amount. It was all so blurry, he couldn't really tell what exactly he was looking at, but he knew it was a lot. With a breath, he pushed himself up, to lean against the headboard of the bed -his head hurt a little, and he could kind of tell he had a shitty sleep. He couldn't really say why, he didn't really fucking know.

Mindlessly, he grabbed his glasses from his nightstand (which holy fuck did they need to be cleaned) and slid them onto his face. It took him more than one try (he wasn't exactly the most coordinated, not even when he was fully awake). After continuously pushing back a mob of curls that just stayed in front of his eyes, Richie finally just shook his head and the mob moved out of the way. He really needed to figure out how to take care of curls. Maybe he could ask Bev-

He blinked, refocusing on his phone screen -there was a lot. A mix of Instagram and actual messages (he randomly noted if he should get Eddie's number at some point), he thought for a second he posted something he shouldn't have. So, with a breath, he checked (on all platforms, mind you). All he had was Twitch promo and some stupid tweets (he specifically remembers "animal from the muppets definitely fucks"), though, so he was all good there.

He frowned. What the fuck is going on?

Naturally, Richie went to Instagram first. It was where he talked to Eddie, and that was kinda his first priority anyway. Was that fucked up to say? He loved his friends, really, they just weren't... Eddie.

Eddie was like a whole different tier.

So, he quickly went to his messages. In which he noticed a few different sources, the new groupchat was the primary target with an absurd amount of new messages (he debated turning those notifications off for a spare moment), some from Eddie, and maybe like two from Bev. You can kinda guess where he went first.

e.kaspbrak
Can't believe you fucking fell asleep on me.

You snore by the way.

Richie smiled. Right. They'd been up pretty late last night on the phone. Eddie had told him to go to sleep for hours, but Richie downright refused. And neither of them really wanted to hang up. So, apparently, he stayed on until he passed out.

e.kaspbrak
Hope you slept well, asshat.

Richie laughed out loud. Maybe a little in the giggly kind of way (he likes me) and maybe a little like it was the funniest shit in the world (which it was, to him). He said this literally every day but he was so entirely fucked. Eddie had such a fucking grip on him.

This next one he noted was like super early in the morning for him in New York.

e.kaspbrak
Your ex, Connor, just blocked me.

I went easy on him too, what a fucking baby.

He's married now, though, so I messaged his wife instead. She told me she'd get back to me.

Richie snorted. He couldn't remember the last time someone gave a this much of a shit. About him. His friends loved him, yeah, but to fucking chase down his exes? And fucking insult them into blocking you? There was truly nothing more romantic.

e.kaspbrak
I know you're still gonna be asleep right now because you don't wake up until 3 in the fucking afternoon, but I told the others.

Just check the groupchat.

Text me when you're up, dipshit.

Richie paused a second, suddenly understanding the influx of messages. And now that he looked at it, missed calls.

Before he could think about it, he clicked the camera button and started a video. Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he threw up a thumbs up.

"I'm awake, Eds," he let out a yawn, naturally stretching slightly, "-at a responsible-" he checked the clock, "-10:37 in the morning. So fuck you."

And send.

Richie blinked. Wait.

He'd never sent Eddie a video in his life. Why was that his instinct? They'd not even sent selfies back and forth, now that he thought about it. He stared at the little bubble for a few seconds too long. And maybe because he was half awake, he just waved it off. Too late now.

Barely awake Richie had less anxiety apparently.

With a smooth motion, he moved on to the groupchat. Surprisingly, most of the recent ones were just reels -back and forth throughout the night. Which was kinda in character, it was a friends' groupchat after all, what was one of those without extensive and constant fucking memes? (It should be said that he did note to mute the notifications though.) And then, after a substantial amount of scrolling, he found it.

e.kaspbrak
Now we are :)

At first, Richie didn't exactly get it. Until he scrolled up even more and was reminded of the 'not yet' text. The one that made him want to twirl in a meadow to some music, like a Disney movie scene. (It actually still kind of hit the same now. Richie felt like he should open up his window and sing to the birds.) Blinking, he refocused.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
NO WAYYYY

Ahhh, congratulations ❤️❤️❤️

benny.boy.official ✔️
so happy for you guys ☺️

stan.the.man ✔️
I wish you the best of luck, Eddie.

mike.me.up ✔️
congrats guys !!!

big.bill ✔️
Did not have trashmouth dating somebody on my bingo card but...

I'm happy for the two of you.

e.kaspbrak
Thanks, guys.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
where's rich ?

stan.the.man ✔️
Good question, Bev.

e.kaspbrak
He's asleep.

mike.me.up ✔️
How do you know that?

e.kaspbrak
He fell asleep on the phone with me.

big.bill ✔️
You guys call? Shit, this must be serious. Richie hates phone calls.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
that is so cute !!! I'm so happy for you two.

stan.the.man ✔️
I told him once my uncle died and he just said 'sorry :(' in a text.

e.kaspbrak
@/stan.the.man He really is a fucking idiot.

stan.the.man ✔️
But, you like him?

Richie could see Stanley's fierce protectiveness from a mile away. It made something warm settle along his shoulders, like a hug maybe.

e.kaspbrak
Of course, he's my fucking idiot.

Richie grinned bright -maybe a little too bright, but luckily it was just him in his bedroom. The walls were the only ones to witness it. So, it was kind of like it never even happened at all. No one else would know. They might be able to assume though.

Bev's messages on Instagram were along the same lines 'congratulations' etc, etc. Not that he didn't appreciate them, they were just kinda repetitive. Most of the text messages were the same with the same sort of purpose and soft emojis. He throughly replied to each one with a smile and thanks.

And then, he got to Bev's.

It almost popped out of the screen, accusatory.

Red 🦰🔥 😘
RICHARD TOZIER

YOU ASKED HIM TO MOVE IN WITH YOU ???

Fuck, right, he'd literally forgotten about it. (How the fuck did he forget that?) Eddie was coming to live with him, in three fucking months! God, had that really even settled in yet?

Richie decidedly did not answer, instead jumping over to Stan's messages. Or message, it seemed.

Staniel 🐦😤😠
Richie.

That spoke all it needed to. Stanley was a powerful man with few words necessary. He could nearly see the furrowed eyebrows and thin-lipped straight-line mouth. All judgemental and shit. In a weird kind of way though, the kind that shows he cares. Somehow.

Richie exited the conversation just the same. Later. It was too early for this shit.

It was of no surprise that Bev and Stan were the ones who called him -maybe five times apiece. Or... Bev did it a lot more. He was frankly surprised she hadn't shown up at his door actually-

e.kaspbrak saved your video to chat

He paused, interrupting his thought process. Instinctively, he clicked through, and sure enough, it was saved in the chat. Richie could see his face (one curl so wonkily out of place that he just knew it bothered Eddie). If he thought about it, he looked incredibly sleepy, cozy even, and his hair was unbelievable actually. Probably the frizziest it's ever been. Which is fucking saying something-

e.kaspbrak sent you a video

Richie froze.

He eyed the message for a few spare seconds, like if he blinked it would disappear. To be fair, all of this could very much be a dream. Maybe as far as the handsome comment, if he was totally fucking honest with himself-

e.kaspbrak
You are stupidly hot.

What the fuck.

Richie laughed a little, maybe instinctively thinking of it as a joke. He didn't know, but his brain hesitated to think it was him being honest like he genuinely thought those things. Richie Tozier? Hot? Since fucking when?

He didn't know what to say, so instead, he opened the video.

It took a minute to open, screen black for longer than a second (Richie made weird expressions at himself as it did so, naturally). And then, Eddie was filling up his screen.

Before it could get too far, Richie held a finger to the screen, effectively pausing it.

He let his eyes swim over Eddie. He looked like the picture yeah, but his hair was longer now, and the peek of freckles along the bridge of his nose was a little bit brighter. More noticeable. And on top of it all, was a flush of red bubbled along his cheeks and if Richie squinted, he could see it on the tips of his ears. (God, Eddie just might be the cutest human being fucking alive.) Richie almost wanted to hold his face, cradle it. Pathetically.

He was outside, Richie could tell that much. Mostly by the blue skies, but as he unpaused it, noises like dogs barking, the low hum of conversation, and cars honking (as is NY) merely confirmed it.

"It is almost noon where you are, dickhead," Eddie spoke (Richie watched the words come out of his mouth, carefully, connecting the dots), big brown eyes latched right onto him, "-You're gonna miss fucking breakfast. Do you know how important breakfast fucking is? For your entire body? It gives you all the shit you need that you're missing from fasting overnight. Hence, break fast-"

Richie hummed, Huh. A little distracted. His eyes were just so-

"-So go eat."

And then it was over.

Wordlessly, Richie saved the video to the chat. Debating what exactly he wanted to text, or if he wanted to just send another video. For a fucking glimpse of him.

God, Richie was so very gay.

He just did what felt natural, what his brain wanted him to.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I think u r beautiful eds

Before realizing.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

shit unless you're not like comfortable with that word

some dudes aren't

e.kaspbrak
I'm not some dude fuckface.

Before he could text a response -fingers in place, his screen flashed with something new. It was just like a phone call on Instagram, except, on Eddie's half of the screen was, well, him.

Phone a little bit beneath his chin, his eyes scanned out in front of him as he seemed to take steps down the busy street. Richie could sometimes see heads pass by, he seemed to be moving pretty fast actually. Of course, Eds was a fast lil speedwalker. Richie just stared for a little bit, watching the tight little frown he held on his lips as his eyes glanced along the people along the sidewalk (assumedly). God, he really was fucking beautiful-

Richie answered.

"Eds," he chimed smiling, in between wiping his eyes, and shifting into a (sorta) British accent, "-Why have you given me such a pleasure as to grace me with your presence?"

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, a cute little wrinkle in between them, and his lips shifted into a different kind of frown (Richie guessed it might've been a fake one).

"It's too early to start that shit, Richie," he added, something in his tone that Richie couldn't quite read.

Richie's brain went a little crazy at hearing his name in Eddie's voice, on Eddie's face. Watching all the little inflections as he said it, the way his whole face moved as he said his fucking name. He kind of wanted to commit it to memory-

"Rich?"

He blinked, throwing himself out of his thoughts, "Shit, sorry, what did you say, Spaghetti?"

His eyebrows furrowed again, eyes shining with something Richie could really see as concern. His big brown eyes said a lot, right on the surface, he was kind of fucking entranced honestly.

"You okay?" Eddie asked -softer.

It made Richie melt a little.

"Yeah, shit, yeah, I'm fine, Eds," he cleared his throat, "-You just... You said my name."

Eddie's lips quirked up a second, and Richie wanted to see a full smile so bad that it felt like his blood was burning.

"I've said your name before, dickweed," he chimed, "-like multiple times. Do you not remember the fucking phone calls-"

"But it's you this time," Richie interrupted -impulsively, "-your face. You."

Eddie did smile then, a little small one. It made something zing all the way to his toes.

"My beautiful face?" Eddie teased, and Richie felt a little like he was floating.

Richie paused, before settling on something.

"Yeah," he hummed, maybe a little too softly, "-your beautiful face."

He watched then, as a sort of flush bubbled up to his skin -all the way up to the tips of his ears. It was a splotchy sort of red. He puffed up his cheeks for a moment, and Richie thought for a moment he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Fuck you."

Richie burst into laughter, "Wow, I give you a compliment out of the kindness of my heart-"

"What the fuck else was I supposed to say?" Eddie retorted, something in his face flickering frustration (or maybe just flustered), "-You called me fucking beautiful. Who does that shit?"

"Eds, I thought you were beautiful like since the fucking beginning-" Richie added before he could think about it, and when the words settled along in his mind, he snapped his lips shut.

Shit. He really was a fucking loose cannon-

"Seriously?" Eddie asked, softer -big brown puppy dog eyes looking at him. He was so fucked.

"Uh," Richie paused, awkwardly, "-yeah."

"Wait," Eddie scrambled a second, "-How? You didn't know what I looked like-"

"On your Instagram," Richie interrupted, rambling a little, "-you have a, uh, photo where you're smiling. You've got little crinkles by your eyes and shit. And the... the first thing I thought was that you were..."

"Beautiful," Eddie finished -succinctly, not looking at the screen (his face was still pretty red).

"Yeah," Richie continued, awkwardly.

"You can't do that."

Richie pursed his lips, "What?"

"Be all fucking... sincere and shit," Eddie explained, suddenly frustrated, "-You're already handsome and... and charming and fucking funny as shit. Save some for the rest of us, asshole."

Richie laughed again, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling.

"Awe, Eds thinks I'm charming-"

Eddie choked out a laugh, before stomping it down, "I take it all back. You're an idiot."

"Apparently, I'm your idiot," Richie chimed back -teasing.

Eddie fell silent, "Shit."

Richie laughed again, and Eddie laughed too. It made something in him flutter. It was just like every time before, each one laughing a little harder. He thought for a second that maybe it would never stop, maybe he'd run out of oxygen-

"I think you're beautiful too," Eddie chimed (decidedly not laughing anymore, how long had he been just looking at him?), "-just so you know. Dick."

Richie sobered up pretty quickly then, red splotchy patches creeping up his face (probably worse than Eddie's a few seconds ago). Even despite the embarrassment, he smiled goofily and tilted his head, "Thanks, Spaghetti."

Eddie just looked at him, eyes set and lips in a firm line. Almost frustrated and also somehow a little affectionate.

"I'm going to beat the shit out of your exes."

Richie laughed, "You could probably take them, Eds. You have so much anger in that tiny little body-"

"I'm 5'6, dickweed," Eddie hissed, "-5'7 is the average height of a man, internationally. I'm average height, it's not my fault you're freakishly fucking tall."

"What about in America?" Richie very well knew it to be 5'9.

"Fuck you," Eddie's lips flattened into a thin frown, "-and get the fuck out of bed. Go eat some breakfast."

Richie opened his mouth to respond.

"-I'll stay on this fucking call until you do."

Richie thought there might be some other reasons too. It just made him grin brighter, too bright probably (but Eddie looked at him in a certain type of way that he never wanted to stop so maybe it was okay). They stayed on the phone for a lot longer than necessary (somehow Richie didn't mind), and he got to chime in on Eddie's grocery run, which was fun. Especially when he got to physically see Eddie's face as he cussed him out. (Did you seriously just tell me to get fucking Twinkies?)

He wasn't surprised when just a few hours later, he got a knock on his door. Mostly because he still hadn't answered her text messages, or Stan's message either. Quickly responding to Eddie (something about streaming), he wandered up to his door.

He might as well give her a key actually-

Bev walked in with a smile, extending a drink toward him (some fruit drink with like fresh strawberries from Starbucks that he had decidedly never had), and walking a few steps forward. Richie sipped from it, and gently shut his door behind her -locking it.

Before he could even turn around, Bev punched his arm hard -the ice sloshed in his drink.

"Fuck, Red," his freehand came up to rub at it, turning to her, "-What was that for?"

"Not telling me shit," Bev chastised, before extending her hand -expectantly.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows for a second, eyeing her palm, "Uh, what?"

"Your phone," she chimed, like it was obvious.

"I didn't ask through text, Bev," he clarified, "-we talked on the phone."

"How did it e-" she started, before pausing. She held up her finger as if to say one moment, and pulled out her phone. With a breath, a dial tone echoed out into the room.

"Hello?" Stanley answered. Fuck.

They were ganging up on him right now, why? He didn't deserve this shit. It had just come out, and Eddie was okay with it-

"Hey, Stan," Bev responded, "-I'm at Richie's, like we talked about."

Like we talked about, Richie sighed, "C'mon guys, I don't need a fucking intervention-"

"It's not an intervention," Stan's voice chimed up put of the phone, "-We're just fucking confused as hell, Rich."

"Yeah," Bev supported, "-I really like Eddie for you, but where did this come from?"

Richie questioned, assuming she talked to Eddie to learn that information, "Did Eddie not tell you?"

She pursed her lips, answering, "No."

Richie briefly wondered why, but it kinda made sense. Eddie was pretty private about things like that, and if anything (since they were Richie's friends first), he'd want Richie to handle it. He didn't want to fuck any of it up, even though Richie told him that he really couldn't.

"He called me yesterday during his shift," he explained, "-Told me that a coworker was flirting with him, he rejected, and she threw hot ass coffee on him-"

Stan interrupted, "Is he a barista?"

"Was," Richie corrected before continuing, "-Long story short, he walked out of his job and quit. And then he started getting frantic about rent and hating his life... and it just... slipped out."

"And you meant it?" She questioned, carefully.

"Yeah, of course I did," Richie laughed, "-he's... Eddie."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stanley crackled over the phone.

"It's... Eddie," he repeated, unsure how to go from there, "-He's my favorite person in the whole fucking world, no offense. I can't help myself with him-"

"Your favorite person?" Bev questioned -quieter, gentler. Richie wasn't sure what to do about it, or how to interpret it.

"Yeah," he echoed out, before adding, "-like I said no offense. You guys are like a close second-"

Bev held out her hand, and Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "I wanna see your messages."

Richie didn't even flinch, accepting her phone as she handed it to him with ease. Stanley didn't say anything for a second like he was thinking -processing. Richie knew that meant he was about to say something big; he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"You videochatted?" She asked, and before Richie could respond, continued, "-You called him beautiful?"

"Hey, I told you about that one-"

She didn't say a word, instead, Eddie's voice echoed out into the air, "It is almost noon where you are, dickhead-"

"Huh," she commented, scanning over him, "-he is pretty cute. I can totally see the beautiful thing-"

"You really do like him," Stanley's voice called out, curious, "-don't you?"

Richie gnawed at his lips, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt -debating how to say it, "So fucking much."

"And he likes you too?" Stan asked, quietly.

"Yeah," Richie paused, "-at least, I think so."

"No, 'I think so'-" Bev interrupted, handing him back his phone and accepting her phone, "-I text him. He likes you. A lot."

"Yeah?" Richie asked, grinning.

"Oh, yeah," Bev laughed, "-he told me that he found you from one of Mike or Ben's streams. You said some stupid shit in the chat, he saw the checkmark and got curious. He went to your channel, and-"

Richie felt a little like exploding.

"-watched some of your streams. 'I liked his laugh and his stupid ass face'," she quoted, smiling, "-You'd been his celebrity crush for like a year and a half-"

"I was his celebrity crush-" Richie nearly cooed, pretending to faint, "-Bev pinch me, I'm dreaming~"

She laughed, loud. It made something in Richie lighten, he really fucking loved making his friends laugh. And it always made him just love his friends ever more. He never thought he'd get this-

"I'm happy for you Richie," Stan interrupted, "-really fucking happy for you. I am gonna have to text him though."

"Give 'im the ole runaround," Richie joked, in a heavy Southern accent.

"Seriously, Rich," Stanley clarified, "-if he tries any shit, I'll book a flight to New York."

"Stanley, my hero," Richie sighed out.

"Rich."

"I know, I know," Richie relented, breathing out, "-I don't think he's gonna hurt me. I'm really... I trust the fuck out of him."

"Yeah, good," Bev hummed, "-it's our job to test him."

"Guys," Richie laughed, fake pleading but still kinda genuine, "-please don't scare him away, I really like this one-"

"It won't scare him away," Stanley added, "-if he's serious."

Richie rolled his eyes.

Quickly, going to Instagram, he shot Eddie a warning message.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
incoming daddy stan and momma bev asking about your intentions with me

🚨🚨 this is a warning 🚨🚨

He waited a second.

e.kaspbrak
Bev already did that.

But tell Stan to bring it on, I'm ready.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u can't do any worse, right ?

the bar is on the floor lol

e.kaspbrak
I'm gonna be the best boyfriend you've ever had, dipshit.

Boyfriend, chimed through his head, and Richie grinned bright.

e.kaspbrak
And not just because all your other ones are shitty.

Because I actually want to fucking take care of you and your stupid brain.

Very stupid brain.

Something twisted in his chest, a little overwhelming.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I'm getting mixed signals here, eds

e.kaspbrak
Shut up, dipshit. ❤️

Richie felt a little like he might cry. In the good way.

e.kaspbrak
No, you're not.

And before your brain starts shit, I like the fuck out of you.

Okay, in a very good way.

Chapter Text

Richie was not above treating himself like the main character. Honestly, he thought everyone should. It's like self-love or whatever.

Steve told him he should, so he allowed himself some passes.

Currently, he was blasting a song -dancing around his kitchen as he cooked some chicken dish. He was actually stalking Gordon Ramsay's account and found it, and then, he convinced himself he could do it. And to be fair, he had a prevalent interest in cooking (maybe because he had to do it a lot growing up but still), so he might actually be able to make it. Plus, it was the simplest he could find (just chicken and a list of ingredients).

"There is no one better to be than myself," he sung, doing some sort of shuffle, before raising his voice, "-there is no one better to be than myself."

He slid along the floor with his socks, leaving the chicken on the counter with the seasonings mixed beside it in a bowl. Doing something very similar to the cha-cha in the Cha-Cha Slide, he moved toward the middle of his kitchen.

"Today is gonna be an amazing day," he repeated, "-today is gonna be an amazing day."

He moved back over to the counter, grabbing the bowl and dumping it onto the chicken.

"My feelings matter," Richie hummed along, busying himself with the other ingredients, "-my feelings ma-"

There was a buzz against the counter. Richie popped out of his thoughts, nearly instantly, and stopped singing. He skipped over to his phone to the beat.

e.kaspbrak is trying to videochat

Richie grinned.

"Hello, Spaghetti-" he called out (adjacent to a 'Hello, Vietnam!' impression), setting up his phone against the paper towels. The song continued to play on his home speaker, he did turn it down to hear him, though, "-what's up?"

He scanned over him, noting the much messier hair and peek of some sort of pastel t-shirt. Maybe a polo, actually-

Eddie scrunched up his nose (Richie thought it might be his favorite thing ever when he did that), a betraying little smile slipping onto his lips, "What the fuck are you listening to?"

🎵 'I choose to be happy, I cho-' 🎵

Richie faux gasped, fully turned to his phone, "Eds, you're breaking my heart."

"What?" Eddie laughed a little, "-I've never heard that shit in my life."

He placed a hand on his heart dramatically, as Richie Tozier does, "-You've never heard Doggyland's Affirmation Song?"

"No," Eddie answered -flatly, but still smiling.

"Wow," Richie shook his head, tsking, and moving to focus on his chicken, "-you have a lot to learn, Spaghetti. Luckily, I'm a great fucking teacher-"

Eddie decidedly ignored him, brown eyes smoothing over his hands (lingering for a second) -which were currently busy with his food, "What are you doing?"

Richie grinned, "Ah, my dear Eds, you have a front-row seat to Chef Tozier's famous chicken-"

"There's no fucking way you can cook," Eddie cut him off.

Richie pursed his lips, acting offended, "Why not?"

"You're fucking Trashmouth Tozier," Eddie pointed out, "-You ate Chef Boyardee last stream."

"SpaghettiOs, actually, if you're gonna insult me, get it right," Richie chimed, playfully, "-and I don't have the attention span to cook all the time. Plus, it's kinda boring cooking for myself. What am I supposed to do? 'Compliments to the chef', that's fucking me-"

"Fine," Eddie relented, teasing really, "-What are you making, Chef Tozier?"

"Uh," Richie pursed his lips, thinking back to the post, "-chicken...? Gordon's post didn't really have the name of the dish, other than like 'This is an amazing dish for your family!'. You know internet recipe type shit."

"Gordon?" Eddie asked, and Richie almost heard a little jealousy. It was cute.

"Ramsay," Richie clarified, smiling just a little bit.

"You're cooking a Gordon Ramsay recipe?!"

"Uh, yeah...?" Richie laughed, turning to the phone -raising an eyebrow, "-You know he posts those, right?"

Eddie puffed out his cheeks (in that cute little way he did when he was flustered), "Is it not like... fancy shit? Like fucking... gold leaf?"

"Eddie baby, it's not fucking escargot," Richie leveled, grinning (a little like he didn't want to be anywhere else), "-it's chicken."

"No, I fucking get that, asshole," Eddie clarified, a blush flickering up his cheeks (Richie wanted to know why so he could do it again), "-it's just Gordon Ramsay. He has like Michelin stars and shit."

"You think Gordon is snooty?" Richie questioned, voice in something like a salesman, "-You think he only caters to the fanciest of the fancy? No, my friend, he's for the underdogs, the average person-"

"Alright, alright," Eddie laughed, trying to play it off as frustrated, "-I fucking get it, Richie. You can stop now."

Richie snickered a little, before his mind buzzed over -entirely focused on the meal. That was his thing, he was either intently focused or literally in another dimension -absorbing fuck all. Now, though, he moved instinctively -brain lowered to a gentle hum. It always made him feel better, doing shit. Usually as a distraction (maybe when it all felt too loud), but still. It was nice.

Somewhere in his head, he noted that the song had changed.

🎵 'But I need to confess, I told you a lie-' 🎵

"I said you, you~" Richie hummed, busying his hands, "-were the love of my life-"

"Do you do this a lot?"

"Shit," Richie jumped, letting out a breath, "-I forgot you were there, Eds."

Eddie ignored it, thoughtfully looking at him -Richie couldn't quite label what exactly he was seeing in his eyes, "Do you?"

"Cook?" Richie questioned, to which Eddie nodded, "-Sometimes. I used to cook a lot when I was growing up, so I like to do it. It's just, isn't really, uh, fun when you're by yourself."

Richie watched Eddie's lips purse for a moment, brown eyes gently smoothing over his face. It made Richie roll his lips together, before ducking his head and making sure everything was mixed together -properly. Was it was the oven or the stove top-

"Well," Eddie finally spoke -leaning against his hand and just staring (Richie wasn't sure how to take it), "-you're not by yourself this time."

"I am not," Richie smiled at Eddie, tilting his head slightly -heart caught up in his throat a little, "-That is true, Eds."

Eddie paused, eyes smoothing over Richie (if he was honest with himself, in admiration). It made Richie want to do that thing where people jump in the air and snap their heels together (a heel click maybe?). Every time Eddie looked at him, he'd honestly do that -if he had a little less dignity, that is. Which he was kinda threading the needle honestly (especially since that would probably make Eddie laugh).

Which was, in retrospect, probably his favorite sound in the world. It made him woozy, sometimes, with just fucking... affection. And Richie wasn't sure how to like handle it, other than slipping out incredibly genuine compliments. He'd always been more of a touchy person, and acts of service (he really fucking liked doing things for people). So, he really couldn't like fully express his... feelings for Eddie. Not until he was like here, which he would be relatively soon. That's kind of fucking sick, actually-

"I can't cook for shit."

Richie spun to him at the words, tilting his head curiously (not unlike a puppy), "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Eddie breathed out, "-my Mom used to always cook for me. Something about being fucking healthy, I guess, and maybe... maybe controlling me. And then, the girlfriend she made me have did the same."

Richie stepped over to the phone now, leaning slightly on the counter, "What about boyfriends?"

Eddie pressed his lips together into a thin line, not quite looking at Richie. It looked a little like he was debating something.

Richie wanted to ask, and he almost did.

"Richie, you're like..." he started hesitantly, puffing up his cheeks like he was a little embarrassed -red bubbled up his face, "-the first boyfriend I've ever had."

Richie stalled in place (for two reasons: what he was saying and Eddie calling him his boyfriend), "What?"

"I've had my first kiss and shit like that," Eddie clarified, "-but I've never like officially went on a date-"

"What the fuck."

Eddie was fidgeting, maybe a little flustered, "I have no fucking clue why you're so surprised."

Richie didn't process those words, instead choosing to ask again, "You've never had a boyfriend, Eds?"

"I just fucking said that dumbass," Eddie answered, before rambling -maybe a little embarrassed, "-and it's really not that fucking surprising, some people don't even have their first kiss until their 20s-"

"No, Eddie, I'm not fucking judging you," Richie quickly clarified, stopping what he could easily see was a Kaspbrak spiral, "-You're just... You're so fucking cute, how have you never had a boyfriend?"

Eddie pressed his lips together, failing to hide a smile, "Just because you think I'm cute doesn't mean everyone does, dipshit."

"Eds, I'm so serious," Richie leveled, "-If I asked the groupchat right now, if they thought you were cute, they would all say yes."

"You're fucking ridiculous, Richie," Eddie shook his head, smiling.

"I'm gonna fucking do it," he grabbed his phone, closing out the call for a second, "-just you fucking wait, Kaspbrak."

"Richie, don't-"

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
do u guys think eds is cute ?

objective opinions

reddy.bevvy ✔️
oh I know the answer to this one !!!

yes 😘

mike.me.up ✔️
hell yeah

big.bill ✔️
I don't know what he looks like?

benny.boy.official ✔️
of course ☺️

stan.the.man ✔️
@/big.bill Ditto.

Richie had a photo he'd screenshotted once in one of their photo wars. (It was where they sent pictures back and forth until someone stopped. Richie particularly liked using haunting fucking filters.) This one though, was maybe the cutest, or maybe most beautiful thing in the world (to Richie at least).

He had his nose shriveled up, assumedly in response to Richie's selfie (which was probably some kind of fucked up) and he had like a half smile half frown. His hair was a little messy and his freckles were fairly obvious in the sun, and his brown eyes were the particular kind of shiny that people posted about. (Golden hour, he thinks.) So, they shimmered a kinda orange. Richie had been debating making it his phone background for like weeks.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
attached image

The replies were almost instant.

stan.the.man ✔️
Yeah, and I'm very surprised he's dating your shitty ass.

Patty also says yes.

big.bill ✔️
What the fuck? He's dating you?

He's like one tick away from a fucking puppy. Or maybe one of those grumpy little cats.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
fuck u guys

but also thanks for backing me up 😘😘😘

Richie grinned, eyes lingering on the photo for a second. My boyfriend, his mind chimed, and if he did an embarrassing dance that was for his eyes only, He's my boyfriend.

He let that word thrum under his skin for a few moments, before silently moving to go back to the call. Eddie wasn't back yet, probably scrolling through the responses. Or maybe off being a little flustered. Richie loved it when he got flustered, in the cute kinda way.

Humming along with a new song (one about shitty exes, he's pretty sure), Richie grabbed the chicken -was it stovetop or oven? On the spare thought that he might’ve written it down, Richie spun back to the other counter -eyes peering along the surface. He could try and find the post again, but then he'd have to stalk his fucking account and he posts so much-

"You're such a dick," chimed out through the air.

Richie spun on his toes, toward his phone, which he'd set in the same spot it was before.

"Whatever do you mean, Edward?" Richie playfully questioned, in a fancy (posh, if you will) British accent.

Eddie was smiling, but his face was a few shades redder at the moment than it was before. Richie wanted to pinch them, and maybe kiss them, so much that Eddie would get sick of it. Fuck long distance-

"You're a shithead," Eddie chimed, "-Are you almost ready to fucking cook that? You've been prepping for so fucking long-"

"Yeah, yeah," Richie confirmed, before skimming over the counter -eyes snagging on a sticky note, bingo. Snatching it up, he read it (oven) and the instructions before turning and grabbing his phone, "-save the dirty talk for the bedroom, yada, yada, etcetera, etcetera."

Eddie rolled his eyes, as Richie focused on putting the chicken in the oven (turned out he had forgotten that he had already fucking preheated it, sometimes he was truly a lost cause). With practiced hands, he slid on the oven mitts (a little like he was a surgeon in a medical drama). Which he decided to run with.

"My god, he's unresponsive! We must put him into the incubator," he dramatically opened the oven, sliding the chicken into it (all the while lowering his voice), "-so as to preserve his life-"

Turning to face the other side, he made his voice higher, "But, doctor, he's allergic to incubation!"

He turned back the other way and spoke, with a low voice, "It's the only way, Violet. We mu-"

"You do that a lot?"

Richie blinked again, turning to the camera -his glasses fogged up from the heat (he's pretty sure he heard some screenshotting). Taking off his glasses, he brought them to the end of his shirt and wiped them clean -situating them right back onto his face. And with that same breath, set the timer on the oven.

Finally, he faced his phone, "I told ya, Eds, I used to do skits by myself when I was like 12. Of fucking course I do it a lot."

Eddie was smiling at him with soft kinda eyes (it made Richie's heart flutter), "So, it's something you don't really show people?"

"Uh," Richie was suddenly incredibly embarrassed, "-no. It's kinda a personal thing that I just... sometimes do. I didn't even think about the fact that you'd see it-"

"It's cute," Eddie chimed, before Richie could get very far -his head tilted and leaning on the palm of his hand (his elbow against a table, assumedly) and Richie nearly fainted, "-Reminds me of your streams."

He almost asked what part of his streams were cute, of all things, but then he remembered the celebrity crush thing. Eddie just fucking watching him and liking him and his stupid face and his shitty jokes. God, he really needed to fucking focus-

"My streams?"

"Just you genuinely fucking enjoying yourself," Eddie clarified, still staring at him -dreamily somehow (Richie Tozier? Dreamy? Yeah, somebody fucked something up-), "-it's really fucking cute."

Richie thinks for a second about the fact that other people would maybe call him a dork, or a nerd maybe. How his old boyfriends would tell him to stop, that he was acting weird, and it was embarrassing them. That he was embarrassing. And then, he thinks about Eddie. Who was smiling at him (in a way that made Richie want to maybe lie down and daydream every physical scenario that he could about the guy) and softly complimenting him for shit that other people would hate. Had hated before.

Richie just grinned, red splotchy patches climbing up his face (and something in his stomach swirling), "Thanks, Spaghetti."

Now, it was a day later, and Richie was trying to call Bev. An emergency. But not like an actual emergency, but an emergency-

He rolled his eyes at himself -tapping the pencil along the paper he'd brought out. At the current moment, he was sat at his counter (on a barstool), pursing his lips together, and listening to the phone ring. Bev was taking a little long to answer, Richie had a running theory that it was because of Ben.

Well, his theory wasn't just that Ben was distracting her. It was a wider-scale thing, he had the running theory that something was going on between them. That maybe they didn't even recognize.

The funny thing about the Losers Club is that a lot of them, weirdly, already knew each other beforehand. Like previously said, Mike and Ben grew up together and by fucking impossible chance met back up through Twitch. And now he guessed with Eddie, he was connected to the two of them and Richie (being in his chat in the first place). Another example of this phenomenon (that Richie was still in the process of naming, it had to be fucking good) was Bev and Bill.

Stanley, after finding Richie, did some sleuthing and found Bill. He was actually bigger than both of them (even though at the time they were on the up and up, and now Richie, surprisingly, was the biggest of them all) and brought something to the table neither of them properly had. Skill, or just general knowledge of the game. He always knew what he was doing, whereas Stan didn't want to waste his time learning video game shit, and Richie didn't even look at fucking tutorials (balls to the wall kinda shit). He was number 3. Gaining a Mike, you move on to number 5: Bev. Richie actually found her. He guessed because Bev was local, she was in his recommended on Twitch. He'd taken a shot and joined her stream, shooting off some oneliners, being himself, you know. She'd bounced off him with poise and grace, Richie was fucking fascinated.

All that to say, they all met each other and then boom, turns out Bev and Billy had some fucking history. High-school sweethearts, who had amicably split, thank god. (The Losers Club still had fucking training wheels, that drama could've ruined everything.) As far as Richie knew they never tried to reconnect in that way. (He couldn't be completely certain, he guessed.) But he knew they weren't now, at the very least.

But Ben and Bev?

The floor is yours, it is possible, my friend.

Ben was physically in Bev's chat, hence the founding of his theory. It didn't take a genius to see that one Ben Hanscom was deadly into one Beverly Marsh. (There was actually this whole fucking movement on the internet about it. Which Richie distinctly was not sure how to feel about.) And Ben, sweet Benny boy, was always writing poems about a muse (more often than not with fiery hair). Bev, noteably, watched his streams. It was very reciprocated though, and Richie had been watching it unfold for almost a year now.

He was pretty fucking invested-

"Hi, this is Bev! Leave me a message and I'll get back to you."

Richie groaned, throwing himself back against the pillows. Time for plan B.

With a quick flick through his contacts, he clicked the one he needed and waited -impatiently, if anyone was asking.

"Hello?"

"Billy!" Richie burst out with a big grin, "-How's the high life treatin' ya?"

Bill was plan B because he lived in LA, closer than any other loser (other than Bev) and he needed location help.

"It's... okay, too hot to leave th-the house," Bill laughed, "-You n-never fucking call me, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Billiam," Richie explained, "-I just need some help. It's kinda like a question, honestly-"

"S-Shoot," Bill echoed out -certain. He was headstrong as shit, it was really fucking scary on the right day. (Richie was impulsive/brave, and Bill was impulsively brave. If that made any sense.)

"Best date ideas you can think of, go," Richie announced like he was covering a race or something.

"In g-general, or what?"

"I was gonna ask specifically for San Francisco, but Bev isn't answering her fucking phone," Richie whined, letting out a deep breath, "-So I figured you might know something, somewhere nearby."

"Rich," Bill leveled, "-L-LA is six fucking ho-hours away from San Francisco. Do you w-wanna drive six hours for a d-date?"

Richie honestly debated driving to New York every day (Eddie hated planes), so six hours was entirely doable. For him anyway.

"Uh, maybe," he offered, awkwardly, "-if the idea's good enough."

"Th-This is for Eddie, r-right?" Bill clarified, and Richie could hear the clicking of his keyboard, "-Stanley t-told me he's moving in k-kinda soon."

"Yeah, a little under 3 months now, maybe close to 2 and a half, actually," Richie confirmed, mind wandering on the thought for a second. Eddie... coming to live with him. He was still totally normal about it. Completely fucking normal-

"I can tell it's s-serious," Bill added, before questioning, "-What's w-with the pr-preplanning though?"

"I'm Eddie's first boyfriend," it rumbled out of his chest (he still couldn't fucking believe that shit, what the fuck), "-and he's never been on an actual... date. So, ya know, I just wanna..."

"Give it t-to him," Bill finished, thoughtfully, "-Well, I'm g-gonna help you th-through this. We're gonna f-figure this shit out."

Richie fucking believed him.

"O-Okay, so I don't know s-shit about San Francisco, an-and neither do y-you," Bill started, "-but, the f-fucking internet d-does."

And the internet did, in fact, know.

His conversation with Bill had to be pretty quick, he had an interview or meeting or something. He'd taken to writing books recently, and somebody wanted to give him a shot. Hear him out. But they did narrow down some options, which was better than where he started. And Bev still hadn't called him back, so it was kinda all he had.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
eds

edsssss

edsssssss

eddie baby

spaghetti 🍝

I'm ur boyfriend stop ignoring me

🥺🥺🥺

e.kaspbrak
What the fuck do you want, asshole?

You know I'm with Ben right now.

Right, Ben also lived in New York. Which was also kinda lucky, and definitely added to his proclaimed "phenomenon". So, he noted it somewhere in the back of his head.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
wow ur boyfriend can't want attention ???

I see how it is 😤

also I know for a fact he's on a call with Bev so

e.kaspbrak
How do you know that?

Bingo, another piece of evidence for his theory.

He paused a second, reflecting. He should seriously go outside more often-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
she wasn't answering her phone

and I have a theory they are madly in love w each other

e.kaspbrak
Huh.

You might actually have a fucking point, moron.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
awe, my boyfriend called me stupid 🥺

He could practically see the eye roll, all the way in New York.

e.kaspbrak
Shut the fuck up.

You know I like you.

Now, what do you want?

Richie smiled, kicking his feet a little, and wished he could fly. He felt a little like that Rudolph scene where the girl deer thought he was cute (that made him fly, right?). So maybe flying would do the trick to represent the flutter in his heart.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
how do u feel about trampoline parks ?

or picnics in a botanical garden

or mini golf

e.kaspbrak
Richie, what the fuck are you talking about?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
date ideas

I'm planning out dates which u should be proud of me for

or impressed I'll take either

e.kaspbrak
Seriously?

Richie paused for a second, not sure how to take that. But, it was Eddie so he didn't think it would be bad. Not really.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
uh yeah

I'm ur first boyfriend

and u have never been on a date

so I figured I'd be a good fucking bf and plan that shit out

bc u deserve them

e.kaspbrak
I think that is the nicest shit anyone has ever done for me.

Brownie points, his mind chimed. But, still it was a little upsetting. Eddie was like... worth the fucking world to him. Why did he have such a shitty life?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
well I'm gonna be ur best boyfriend ever sooooo

e.kaspbrak
Maybe my only boyfriend ever.

Richie froze, not in the bad kinda way, and his heart skipped a beat. Maybe the drive to New York really wouldn't be that bad? I mean, it's a long time and Richie would get so fucking bored that he'd be insufferable. But, Eddie would be at the end of it. That would make all the shit worth it-

e.kaspbrak
Which could also be because you fuck it up so bad that I swear off dating forever.

Or you were so shit as a boyfriend that I become straight.

Richie laughed, before carefully typing.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
but the other way too ?

e.kaspbrak
Yeah, the other way too.

Richie grinned, feeling so woozy that he might fall out of his chair. He wanted to twirl his hair, and write in a diary. Or maybe skip (literally skipping) through the streets of San Francisco, smiling too big.

e.kaspbrak
I think the trampoline park would be more for you.

Which I wouldn't mind because I like seeing you happy.

Dipshit.

Richie laughed again.

e.kaspbrak
The garden thing actually sounds really nice.

If you can stay still for that long.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I just need something to focus on

and I can def focus on u eds 😉

e.kaspbrak
You're such an idiot.

And I like the idea of mini-golf.

But I am so fucking competitive that you should physically take that into consideration.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

I'll let u win

don't worry your pretty lil head about it spaghetti

e.kaspbrak
You better fucking not.

And I'll win fair and square anyway.

Richie almost typed out a response, ready to keep the bickering going-

e.kaspbrak
I've always wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge.

If we could do that.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
oh fucking course we can do that eds

I'd buy it for u if it was in my budget

rename it the eds bridge

or maybe eddie baby's bridge

e.kaspbrak
I like that one.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what

my hypothetical bridge name ?

e.kaspbrak
Just the name.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what eddie baby ?

e.kaspbrak
Yes, dipshit.

Do you have any kind of reading comprehension?

Richie laughed a little, a smile still spread across his lips. Eddie baby. Yeah, okay, he could work with that.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
idk eddie baby

my teacher always said I was troubled 🤷‍♂️

e.kaspbrak
You're not going to let go of that, are you?

Richie grinned.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
oh no fucking chance eds

Chapter Text

"Do you think I could stream with you?"

Richie blinked, stirring from where he was currently shuffling through his game library. He was debating what game he wanted to play next stream, or if he wanted to do something else entirely. He was naturally on a videochat with Eddie, his phone set up against one of his monitors.

"What?" He questioned, turning to face Eddie. He was already looking at him, hands fidgeting with his pastel blue polo collar (which Richie knew to be a sign of nerves). Near immediately, he recognized it -brain wired to soothe.

"You know, like," Eddie fidgeted with his hands, and Richie watched it intently, "-be on your stream. Fucking stream together. Maybe... Maybe all of us?"

"Like," Richie clarified slowly, giving him his full attention, "-when you get here? Or?"

Eddie bit his lip a little, still not meeting his eyes, "Ben has an extra mic, and... and some other consoles that I could use. I just... I thought it might be fun, I guess?"

"Eds, I would fucking love to play with you, seriously," Richie explained, carefully adding, "-but it's a big deal to be on a stream. You'll be putting yourself out there for thousands of fucking people."

"I know that," Eddie replied, face maybe twisting a little into frustration, "-and I'm scared a little shitless. But... But I'm always fucking scared, you know? I wanna do something brave for once."

Richie frowned, eyes swimming over his face entirely.

"Eddie baby, you're already fucking brave," Richie reassured, trying to catch his eye (it would be so much easier in person), "-You got the fuck out of that shitty house, on your own, to fucking New York of all places-"

Eddie finally looked up at him, and Richie felt the glance zap all the way down to his toes. Big ass expressive doe-eyes. He felt like he could see the whole universe in there sometimes-

"-and made a living. Maybe a shitty living yeah, but still a living."

Eddie laughed, just a little, before trying to shove it down, "Fuck you. I didn't make a shitty living."

"Eds, you have physically told me that you hate your life," Richie chimed back, smiling, "-I think that means you're making a shitty living."

"Hated," Eddie echoed out.

Richie tilted his head, asking a question without saying a word. Eddie seemed to understand without flinching.

"I fucking hated my life," he continued, clarifying, and smiling in a soft way that made Richie want to hide behind his hair and maybe fucking squeal (like someone meeting their favorite celebrity), "-I've got some pretty good shit to look forward to now, I think."

Richie stared at him for a few seconds, letting the words smooth over his brain. Like he was feeling the sun across his skin after weeks of rain. And it felt a little bit like he was staring into the sun actually -all warm and bright. Feelings bubbling under his skin that he couldn't quite say (not yet). God, he'd never been this fucking happy-

"I'd honestly do anything you fucking wanted, Eds," Richie breathed out, his chest so warm he felt like it might actually burn to a crisp, "-so if you want to stream with the Losers Club, I will fucking find a way."

"Anything?"

Richie grinned, "Fucking anything. Jump into a pit of lava? Cannonball. Parachute out of a plane? I'm getting some fucking air time. Sell my own liver? Sayonara, mi amigo, you've done me well-"

"That's stupid as shit," Eddie chastised, but he was smiling, "-Don't do any of that shit. Ever."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Richie saluted, voice lower for the impression. And he fucking meant it, honestly. He was wrapped around Eddie Kaspbrak's finger, he knew that shit, and was 100% okay with it. There's no fucking place he'd rather be, actually-

"But seriously," Eddie leveled with him, "-you would actually be fine with me streaming with you guys?"

"Eds," Richie laughed, looking steadily at Eddie, "-I would be happy to do anything with you. You're my favorite fucking person. Ever."

Eddie was fighting down a smile, Richie could tell (and he was so glad that the nerves he once saw seemed washed away). It all felt so very natural. Richie really wouldn't want to fucking be anywhere else.

"What about the whole..." Eddie motioned vaguely with his hands, "-boyfriend thing?"

"The fact that we're dating?"

"Yeah," Eddie answered, plainly.

"You don't-" Richie started, before changing course, "-You can just play with me if you want, Eds, we don't have to tell people shit. I flirt with all my friends anyway, so, chat wouldn't notice anything, honestly."

Eddie just stared at him, big brown eyes, "What do you want?"

Frankly, Richie Tozier wanted to scream that he was dating Eddie Kaspbrak off the nearest rooftop. Richie Tozier, if Eddie was with him now, wanted to beg for him to be on his streams just because he wanted to say 'This is my boyfriend, fucking look at him! My boyfriend!'. Richie Tozier would post Eddie Kaspbrak everywhere he could, so everyone in the fucking world would know that they were dating. Richie Tozier, already, almost burst with pride every day because he was dating Eddie Kaspbrak, and to be able to show him off? God, he'd be fucking unstoppable.

Richie Tozier did not say any of that, though.

"If you're comfortable with people knowing, Eds," Richie spoke instead -seriously, "-I make no fucking objections."

Eddie pursed his lips, something in his face concerned (Richie melted a little), "Like are you okay with that? People knowing you're dating me?"

Frankly, Richie Tozier wanted to scream tha-

"Are you kidding me right now?" Richie asked, incredulously.

Eddie's face twisted into something sour, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"No, Eds," Richie soothed, mouth moving quicker than his brain could follow, "-I just mean that I would tell everyone I've ever fucking met that we were dating, that you are my boyfriend, if I could. I'd tell the old lady who is scanning my groceries, I'd tell the drunk dude next to me at the bar, even after he puked on my shoes, I'd tell the car guy that put on my new fucking tires-"

"Car guy?" Eddie interrupted, smiling in that way he always did when Richie got affectionate (half flustered and half flattered), "-Do you really not know the word mechanic, dipshit?"

"Of course I do, that's your dream job," Richie remarked, unflinchingly, "-I just... I wasn't focused on fucking vocabulary."

Eddie's face softened, and Richie almost booked a flight then and there, "You remember that?"

"Eddie baby, there is a whole fucking storage facility on you in my head," Richie laughed, maybe a little embarrassed (he could pay attention if he really wanted to), "-and that's not counting the whole section on your face."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, still looking at him in a kinda way that made Richie want to twirl in place, "My face? What about my face?"

"Eds, you are the most expressive human being I've ever fucking met," Richie explained, counting out his fingers, "-Off the top of my head, you have three separate eyebrow furrows that mean different things. And don't even get me started on your fucking eyes-"

"Wait, hold on, shut up-" Eddie held up a hand, "-I have different eyebrow furrows? What the fuck does that mean?"

"You have one where you act like you're mad, but you're really not, it honestly kinda goes hand-in-hand with like... embarrassment? It's like too furrowed so I can tell you're faking that shit," Richie rambled, motioning with his hands through the air, "-And then, your second one is like you're actually frustrated, for whatever reason. That one kinda relies on your like... eyes a lot though, so... uh, I guess it's not just your eyebrows. The third one is when you're confused. It's almost like you want to raise an eyebrow up, but you don't? So, one of them is just a little bit higher than the other-"

Richie made eye contact with Eddie, whose face was rivaling a cherry at this point.

"-one," he finished, awkwardly.

Eddie blinked, and Richie felt anxiety claw up his throat. Fuck. His mouth strikes again.

Richie pursed his lips, wringing his hands out and ignoring the flush to his very own face (act normal and maybe it fucking will be), "I sound batshit crazy, don't I?"

Eddie just blinked again, eyes wide and cheeks burning a bright red. Richie would've thought it was cute if he wasn't currently so fucking scared that he might physically start shaking-

"Eds?" He tried, weakly.

His big brown eyes stayed focused on him, and his mouth decidedly did not move. Richie's stomach felt like it was tied up in knots, and they were getting tighter by the second.

"Eds," Richie laughed nervously, pinching a curl from his head and tugging on it slightly (he did that sometimes when he got nervous), "-You're kinda freaking me out here-"

"Your smile is crooked."

Richie paused for a moment, "What?"

"It goes up more on your left than it does your right," Eddie clarified in a breath that crashed out of his lungs, "-and that makes your left eye close a little more than your right when you... When you smile."

Richie felt a little speechless.

"And... And you-" Eddie continued, a little like he couldn't stop, "-you scrunch up your nose like you're about to sneeze right before you laugh. Every fucking time."

Richie just blankly stared, blinking. Eddie did the same, his cheeks still pretty bright red (to be fair, Richie probably wasn't looking much better). And they stayed in that silence for a second.

Until it started making Richie's skin itch.

He smiled, not the genuine kind, and started poking at his cheeks -trying to measure maybe, "Really?"

Eddie burst out into laughter, and it made Richie actually smile.

"See, there," he pointed to his screen like he could touch his skin -show it to him (or maybe like he'd forgotten the distance that stood between them, Richie sometimes did that too), "-it's fucking crooked. Just believe me."

"Ahhh," Richie dramatically sighed, taking on the accent of an old movie star, "-another thing to fix before my Hollywood debut. Oh, how I hate going under the knife-"

"Don't you fucking dare start that shit," Eddie leveled, biting.

Richie was startled out of his impression, eyes going a little wide, "Jeez, Eds, I didn't know th-"

"No, it's not your skit, dipshit, you know I like those-" Eddie quickly corrected, eyes still set in a solid glare (hey, there's furrow number 2), "-your smile. Saying you need to fix it."

"Well," Richie laughed a little, "-you said it's crooked-"

"Yeah, and?" Eddie rebutted, instinctively, "-It's like my favorite thing, dickweed. And it doesn't need fucking fixing, so don't say it does. Or else I'll kick your ass."

Richie grinned a little, turning red, before dropping his face into his hands. He smiled into his palms -briskly shaking his head (his curls moving with it). And maybe he was giggling but he'd never tell-

"Are you fucking giggling?"

He felt the flush slink down his neck, burning against his skin. Richie took a second.

"C'mon, Eds, gimme a break," he shot his head up -tilting his chin to the ceiling, and leaning back against his chair. He moved his glasses up on his head, before pushing his fingers into his eyes (his cheeks still burned), "-the most beautiful person I've ever seen likes my crooked ass smile so much they threatened me if I said it was shitty. A man can only be so strong-"

Eddie laughed a little, and it made Richie smile again (which made him another shade darker, because Eddie liked it so much-). Something swirled into his stomach, and he bounced his foot in place a little. He felt like he was going to explode, like how much he was blushing and how fucking happy he was might just... ya know, BOOM.

"You're such a shithead, Richie."

He peeked out from behind his hands, tilting his head back down to match his eyeline. Eddie was watching him with that fond little look on his face that he got. That Richie sometimes had dreams about, all sweet and shit. With that small little smile that he doubted anyone else in Eddie's world got to see. It was his Richie smile. The thought nearly made him fucking faint.

And then a thought rattled through his head, startling and sudden.

I'm fucking falling in love with him.

Or maybe I already am actually. How the fuck do you tell? This isn't... I've never-

"Richie?" Eddie's voice echoed out, and it shot him out of his head (heart flipping in his chest), "-Everything okay?"

He had his head tilted in that cute way he always did, hair slightly undone so some pieces fell with the motion. Richie's eyes traced them for a second. And, per usual, his eyes were shining with emotion -right on the surface, concern. Fucking worried about him, of all things-

Richie blinked, swallowing. Fuck.

"Yeah, Eds," Richie reassured, trying to calm his racing heart, "-everything's fine."

And that was that.

Richie was about this fucking close to googling 'How do I know if I'm in love with him?'. He'd been staring at the search bar on his phone every few spare minutes since that call had ended. Debating if shit like that would even help his situation. People were fucking different right? It couldn't be fucking helpful to him, it might only make it worse. Richie was a chronic overthinker, so he'd overthink fucking everything about how Eddie acted around him. Did he love me? Was he thinking the same thing or-

That being said, he'd been staring at his search bar for about a day and a half. Not consistently, more just like his thoughts were filled with it throughout that time. Richie was just debating on how he should go about it, and if he even needed to 'go about it'. See, as you may have already known, Richie had no control over his fucking mouth. So, the more he thought about it, the more he might slip up and say it.

And on top of that, he wasn't fucking sure when the right time to even say that shit was. Or if he was too early, or if he was doing something wrong-

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. None of this was fucking helping, and he seriously doubted that online articles about love would be either. (He'd once read one that said if a guy fucking waved at you that he was into you. Which Richie strongly disagreed with.) Even if he tried, he wasn't sure where exactly he should start.

Okay, Richie, think, his mind echoed, what's your next move? What should you do? Who knows shit about love?

Richie's eyes flew open. With a solid breath, he scrolled through his contacts and found who he needed.

The ringing had barely stopped echoing through the air before Richie started to talk.

"What's the difference between being in love and falling in love?"

"Hi, Stan," Stanley mocked, voice crackling through the phone,"-How are you today? Oh, I'm doing fine, thanks Richie-"

"Hi, Stan," Richie parroted, obediently, before switching near immediately, "-now seriously, I need to know what's-"

"The difference between falling and being in love?" Stan echoed, shuffling with something on the other end, "-Is that what you said?"

"Yes," Richie answered, shortly.

"Is this a... hypothetical?" Stanley didn't answer, instead asking for clarification (he could nearly see his eyebrows drawn together -confused), "-Or just a question that popped up in your mystery of a fucking mind, or-"

It came out in a rush of breath, before Richie could fully stop it (not that he was sure he wanted to), "I think I'm in love with Eddie."

There was a pause for a second, the silence bouncing around his head. Richie debated biting his nails, which he had never actually done but seemed fitting right now. Maybe even comforting-

"Let me go get Patty," Stan breathed out, and Richie could physically hear him walk himself down the hall -footsteps loud in his head.

"Hey darling, we've got a Richie emergency. If you could-"

The quick scamper of feet (distant and then suddenly very close), made Richie snort. The visual of her dropping whatever she was doing and rushing to her husband's side was hilarious, to be fair.

Oh Patts, his mind chimed, how I love you.

"Oh, honey," her voice bubbled over the phone, caring and kind (Richie had the random thought she'd make a great mom one day if she wanted that), "-is everything alright? Are you okay? Are you and Eddie okay-"

"Patricia," Stanley spoke to her, tone solid and sturdy, "-everything's fine. Richie just thinks he's in love with Eddie."

"What, really?" Patty gasped, sarcastically, "-No."

Sometimes Richie was faced with the harsh reality that she was, in fact, Stanley Uris's wife. It was easy to forget because she was always so sugary sweet to Stanley's ice-cold reception (two halves of a whole if you will). Richie knew they both cared, a fuck ton, but the differences on the surface did still affect him from time to time, he'll be honest.

Stan laughed at that, the one he only ever laughed because of Patty. And Richie guessed he got that now.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you two-" Richie rolled his eyes, "-I see how it is. Ditching your closest friend in a time of crisis-"

"It's not a fucking crisis, Richie," Stanley cut him off, "-You're in love with your boyfriend. That's completely normal."

"We understand it can be scary, honey," Patty followed up, sweeter, "-but it's not the end of the world. And it's certainly not a crisis."

"But, it is," Richie reiterated, "-when have I ever fucking loved someone? And what am I supposed to do? Is it too early-"

Stan asked, curiously, "I thought you loved Connor?"

"If this-" Richie dramatically motioned with his hands (despite the fact that the Uris's could not see him), "-is being in love, then there's no fucking way that's true."

"What do you mean?" Patty followed up.

Richie let out a breath, trying to compose his words, "This... With Eddie, it's so fucking big. It's not an 'oh, it feels really nice to be around you' or a 'you're great company' or even a 'you make me feel less alone'. Eddie is... god, I can't even... I just want to know fucking everything about him, be fluent in Eddie like he's a language. It's not a personal feel-good thing, like how I was fucking chasing the affection of dickheads. He's like a missing piece, like I've always had this Eddie-shaped space carved out and I didn't even know it. But, now I do, and he's here and I just... It's all right, it feels all so right-"

They didn't say a word.

"-which I know is cheesy as fuck. But that's all I can fucking say. I don't... I'm not... Fuck, there's just so much that I don't even know how to fucking say it-"

"You love him," Patty finished for him, quieter, "-Richie, you do, you love him."

Richie let a few breaths shake through his chest, mindlessly counting them in his head. He let Patty's words roll over his skin, processing. Because if Patricia Uris said something, she was right, he knew that like the back of his hand.

Okay, Richie thrummed the thought through his mind, I love him.

It felt stuck in Richie's throat. Bubbled along his skin. Burned his tongue with how fucking badly he wanted to say it, just so Eddie could know that somebody did.

Eddie, somebody loves you.

Eds, I fucking love you.

And then he felt so afraid, so scared that he'd say it and Eddie would freak the fuck out. Break it off. So clingy, so clingy, so clingy-

"What exactly brought this on?" Stanley questioned -slowly and so very soft. It was a tone he barely heard from him, and it shook through Richie's bones.

Richie tilted his head back and swallowed, his eyes burned. He felt a little like he was going to cry, and maybe he did (he couldn't feel it). But he knew it was happy tears, he fucking knew that.

"My smile is his favorite thing," Richie laughed -crying a little, "-It's fucking crooked and he knows that, but it's his favorite fucking thing, Stanley-"

Stanley was laughing through the phone, and Richie thought he might've been crying. The same kind Richie was, happy.

"He's a little shit, and I-" Richie pushed his glasses up on his head, and he was laughing, "-and I... I fucking love him. Shit, I... I love him, you guys. What the fuck-"

Richie was fully on crying now, sniffling and wiping his eyes. God, he loved him, what the fuck-

"Oh, Richie, honey-" Patty cooed, and he had a feeling if he was there with two of them, she'd hug him. And maybe he actually really fucking wanted that, she probably smelled like flowers and Stanley like books (he just fucking knew that, it seemed like common sense). He should go to Atlanta at some point, and visit. Maybe with Eddie, actually, "-This is so, so good, okay? Don't be scared."

"Yeah," Stanley reassured, "-don't get in your head about this, Richie. Fucking seriously."

"But," Richie exhaled, "-what if he doesn't love me? I... I can't fucking handle that-"

Stan interrupted, keen on the spiral that Richie was going to fall into, "Richie stop, even if he doesn't love you. He really fucking cares about you."

Richie pressed his lips together. His heart was thumping against his chest, I love him. I love him. I love-

"And he will," Patty added, confidently, "-He cares about you so much, honey, that if he doesn't already, he will."

Stan continued on that point, "It's only a matter of time, you guys are like two halves of a whole. An incredibly fucked up whole, yeah, but still a whole."

Richie laughed then, "You are such a dick, Stan."

The silence was comforting for a moment, and it made Richie settle on the idea. Process it. This was all so new and scary, but it was Eds. Eddie. His Eds-

"Look, I know sometimes you need to be brought back to earth," Stanley reasoned (and Richie was pretty sure that he heard Patty swat at his chest), "-but this time? Richie, you're right. Eddie is as crazy about you as you are about him. Honestly-"

Richie laughed a little, sniffling.

"-I can't tell if he's going to calm you down, or if you're gonna ramp him up. But you're gonna fucking do it together."

"Stan," Richie measured -lips quivering.

"There's not a chance that you guys break up," he continued, "-It's just... Richie, you're the happiest you've ever fucking been, and I would bet my life that Eddie is too. You... You always talk about me and Patty being meant for each other-"

"-but, Rich, you and Eddie... That fucking feels like forever. It feels like he's always been there, even just with the Losers, the spot has always been open. And nobody noticed it until he slotted right in. Until he shit on you in your Twitch chat-"

Richie burst into laughter at that, it shook through his whole body. A swim of emotion all inside of him, but the most was happy, fucking in love. Holy shit, Richie Tozier was in love. There was no fucking way that was real-

"-It just makes sense. It's right, like you said," Stanley finished, "-and I'm never fucking wrong. Right?"

"Right," Richie confirmed, wiping at his eyes. Something in him felt nicer, lighter.

"And take your time," Patty popped up, "-just because you feel it, doesn't mean you have to say it right now, okay Richie?"

"Here's to hoping I can keep my fucking mouth shut," Richie chimed, crossing his fingers, "-please, God-"

Stanley retorted, flatly, "God can't do the fucking impossible, Richie."

Richie laughed so fucking loud he worried about his neighbors hearing, and he couldn't even hear the baby cry next door. (He'd seen them in the hallway before with one.) He stayed on the phone for a while, Patty and Stanley updating him on a lot of shit honestly. Sometimes boring (like birds, even still, Richie listened), but other times really interesting.

They were setting up an actual wedding, been planning it for like the last year. Because they were married so young, they'd just used the courthouse. But now the Urises, like responsible adults (Richie spent 200 dollars on custom-made Shrek shoes last week), had a budget for an actual wedding. He was gonna be Stan's best man, not to fucking brag (except he was totally going to, maybe every second he could at the wedding).

And then, he realized that Eddie would be in San Francisco. He'd have already moved in, a few months actually. He had the spare thought of Eddie in his best clothes and shiny shoes that didn't have a single crease in them (because of course they didn't, he was Eddie Kaspbrak). And Eddie fucking keeping both of their suits pressed (away from Richie) and fucking fussing over him because 'it's your best friend's wedding, idiot'. The thought of it all made his head spin, and made him want to scream (in a good way).

It hit him again then, a few days after the first time, I love him. Holy fuck, I love him. It burst through his chest like he was in fucking Alien, and it felt engraved in his DNA. Fucking loving Eddie Kaspbrak was in his genes. God. It was just floating through him, always on the tip of his tongue. It could so easily just be fucking said, Richie could just say it-

e.kaspbrak
What are you doing fuckwad?

Richie cleared his throat, blinking. Focus Tozier, you can do this.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
nothing why ?

e.kaspbrak
In the words of the dumbest fucker alive.

'Wow, your boyfriend can't want attention?'

God, Richie Tozier fucking loved Eddie Kaspbrak. So much. How did he never fucking notice that?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
eds wants my attention ???

aweeeee

e.kaspbrak
I take it back, asshole.

Fuck you.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
no take backsies babeyyyy

u have my entire attention spaghetti

e.kaspbrak
Good.

I have a question.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
shoot eddie baby

e.kaspbrak
Do you have an extra dresser?

For my clothes and shit?

Richie's heart fluttered in his chest, he never really forgot that Eddie was coming. But it still hit hard every time he remembered it, he was coming here. To live with him. Him and Eddie living together. And he loves Eddie. The guy he loves living with him-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I can get one

I do have two closets tho

e.kaspbrak
Do they both have shit in them?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
one of them is mine

but the other has old stream stuff in it

just have to clean it

e.kaspbrak
I can do it.

I'm already going to clean everything anyway.

Richie barked out a laugh.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yes dear

e.kaspbrak
You're an asshole.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I love the pet names u give me eds 🤭

makes me feel so special 💞😘

e.kaspbrak
I wouldn't call you them if you weren't an idiot.

Richie laughed, readying another message-

e.kaspbrak
My idiot.

Obviously.

This was going to be really fucking hard. Wasn't it? Thank god they were just texting, Richie is 90% sure he would've said it already. Maybe it would be the first thing out of his mouth-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
does that mean u are responsible for my actions ???

would it hold up in court you think ?

u r my eds too btw

e.kaspbrak
No. And I wouldn't bail you out, fyi.

And yeah, I can't imagine anyone else let you call them that.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
u let me call u that

e.kaspbrak
I like you, dipshit.

And if I didn't like them, we wouldn't be fucking dating.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
still can't believe that btw

e.kaspbrak
Believe what?

Richie gnawed at his lips, debating if he wanted to unveil something else about him that was a little fucked up. People treated him like shit, so he thinks he's shit (or something Steve said much more eloquently, "You place your worth on how much people have valued you in the past."). He knew Eddie didn't feel that way, but it still felt...

Eddie felt levels above him, and yet, he still knelt to see Richie. To be with him. Or at least, that's what it felt like.

But he's Eddie. If there was anyone he wanted to tell about this, he'd want it to be Eddie.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
that u like me

He watched Eddie type for a few minutes. Like he was typing and then erasing, over and over again. It made Richie tug at his curls and made his heart pound in his chest. I love him. He can't be scared away. Don't run away, I love you-

e.kaspbrak
I wanted to talk to you about that actually.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows. What does that mean? Had he done some shit he didn't remember?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what

e.kaspbrak
The other day, in the groupchat.

Richie pursed his lips, trying to think. That groupchat was used so fucking much, he really had no clue-

e.kaspbrak
Bill and Stan both said that they couldn't believe I was dating you.

Remember?

Right, his mind hummed in recognition.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
the cute thing ?

e.kaspbrak
Yeah.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what about it ?

e.kaspbrak
Do you agree?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
with what eds ?

e.kaspbrak
With them. That I deserve better than you.

Like you're a fucking tier lower or some shit. Like I'm settling.

Richie pursed his lips, letting out a breath. He must have taken a second too long because Eddie started up again.

e.kaspbrak
You do, don't you?

Richie hesitated only a second.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah sometimes

e.kaspbrak
I thought so.

Richie paused, trying to decipher if that was good or bad. If he had fucked up or not. Eddie was pretty straightforward, usually, but now, it felt kinda vague. It made him feel a little on edge, he tugged at his hair again -once.

e.kaspbrak
I would call you about shit like this but I want you be able to physically see it.

And reread it when you need to.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what the fuck are u talking about eds ?

Richie waited a breath, watching as the bubbles moved in the corner. Eddie was typing. A lot. It seemed. And then it all started coming in.

e.kaspbrak
I'm not better than you, dipshit. And even if I was, which I am fucking not, I choose you. Even if you think I shouldn't. Because that's my choice, not yours.

I want you.

And your shitty ass jokes, and stupidly good impressions, and crooked smile, and horrendously ugly shirts, you. Not just one thing, fucking all of it.

There's not a part of you that I am ashamed to date, okay? Get that through your thick skull.

You say you're clingy, right? Well, you could cling to me like a fucking koala, I don't give a fuck. Because you're you, and I want you.

You constantly want attention? Well, I want to fucking give it to you, so I will. Because I want to, and don't you fucking dare try and stop me.

Richie, I'm not better than you. We're not fucking better than each other, that's not how this works. You're fucked up and so am I. And I don't know about you, but I don't care about that shit. I just care about you. And personally, that's all that matters to me.

So, fuck the idea that I am. That I could do better. Because, even if that is true, which it's fucking not, I don't want anyone else.

You get that, asshole?

Richie blinked, once and then twice.

His eyes were burning, and his stomach was tied up in knots. His mind was moving so fast that he couldn't keep up, and the words were smoothing over his skin. It felt like they were fucking sinking into his skin, all the way through his chest -right onto his heart. He was so fucked for anyone else-

e.kaspbrak
And tell Bill and Stan that I'm fucking pissed.

Richie couldn't help himself. He was only so strong, and he was... he was so Eddie. And he was in love with one Eddie Kaspbrak.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I love you

Chapter Text

Richie Tozier is not a coward. Not really.

He's impulsive (brave some say) and just does shit. Which is why he was here, staring at his phone. Staring at the three words he hadn't necessarily wanted to say but couldn't stop himself. It just... He just always did stupid shit.

And then his phone lit up.

e.kaspbrak
What

Richie Tozier is not a coward. But sometimes shit was scary, and sometimes you run away.

So, without another word, Richie muted his phone and slid it onto his nightstand. He stared at his phone guiltily for just a spare few seconds, before slipping off his glasses and rolling over to his other side. Promptly ignoring the way the ceiling lit up, knowing that it meant he was distinctly ignoring messages from... Eddie. His Eddie. Eds.

He'd deal with it in the morning. He just needed a night, yeah, a night.

And maybe a morning.

He stared at his phone with too early tired eyes, got up, made some frozen waffles, sat down, ate them, and stared at it some more. Fidgetted with his hands, he debated looking at the messages. (Would there be calls, texts? Would Eddie try and get everyone else to harass him too? Would he tell them what had happened? That Richie had just... said that shit. And... And ran away?) Instead, he spun on his heel and busied himself with his comics or maybe his figurines (or maybe both. Probably both).

It doesn't distract him though, not really. It was in the tap of his foot, or the flex of his hand. He was almost completely panicking, but at the same time, there was no fucking way he could look at what Eddie had sent him. It just wasn't... He didn't want for it to come out this way-

Richie was currently on his couch (it was way past lunchtime at this point, he'd been ignoring his phone for hours), death glaring his bedroom door. His eyes set somewhat to the location of his phone, like he could maybe erase the problem if he stared at it hard enough.

Because of course, after Eddie made this genuine speech about wanting Richie. Only wanting him, and all his fucked up pieces. He'd give him another reason not to.

He knows that not all the options are bad, in terms of Eddie's response, but the bad ones are so fucking scary. Richie was in love with him, how was he supposed to handle (potentially) scaring Eddie away? Or maybe he thought he was just moving too fast? Or maybe Eddie just didn't see it that way yet-

Richie threw his head back on the cushion, groaning. This is going fucking nowhere. You're only making it worse.

Maybe Eddie was good with the whole 'in love with him' thing, but now, you've ignored him for hours. He could be fucking pissed. And what the hell could you do about it? Say sorry?

God, he was so fucked. There was no good fucking outcome from this. Trashmouth Tozier is fucking at it again, ruining hi-

There was a knock at the door. Well, if he was honest more like a bang, it was a pretty hearty fucking knock actually. So much so, that Richie almost didn't go move to see who it was. Who the fuck could it be?

Wait.

"Richard fucking Tozier-"

That was one Beverly Marsh. An angry Beverly Marsh.

She got the kind of mad that was all internal, all glares and frowns and just fucking... like you'd brought home a failed test. ("I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.") Bev was a good friend, a fiercely good friend who knew how to call Richie out on his shit. And god, did she have something to call him out on now-

"Richie," she leveled, maybe a little concerned, "-I'm so serious. Open this fucking door."

He might as well bite the bullet, yeah?

With the drag of his feet, Richie pursed his lips and pulled open the door. He was met with a new type of Bev.

She looked particularly ruffled, if he was fucking honest, and her lips pulled into a tight frown. A frown that he distantly recognized... maybe once. And her eyes? Fucking cold blue steel.

"What the fuck-" she pointed a finger into his chest, "-did you do?"

Richie blinked.

"Eddie has been texting me nonstop about you, that you're not answering him, so I-" she stressed it out, pressing her finger into his chest -it stung a little, "-called you and got the same shit. I called you five times in a row-"

"Bev-" he tried, but she only moved forward.

"-and you didn't answer. I was so worried, Rich, and I can't imagine how Eddie felt all the way in New York-"

"Bev-"

"-And I get here, and you're perfectly fine. So that means something is wrong, and that means that you did something, Richie. So, what did you do?"

Richie gnawed at his lip -reluctantly, closing and locking the door, before questioning, "Eddie didn't tell you?"

Bev's mouth flattened into a straight line, eyes turning somehow fucking colder, "Richie."

"Look, Bev, I just... I fucking panicked, okay-" Richie scrambled a little bit -anxiety in his stomach snapping, "-I didn't mean for it to go on all day-"

"What did you do?" Bev repeated, stern.

"-I just... I don't know, I freaked out. And I needed a minute, I guess-"

"Richie," she tried again, this time grabbing his face -setting his eyes to hers, "-I swear to god I will get Stan to fly his ass here from Atlanta, if you don't tell me what the fuck is going on."

Shit, those were the big guns. Stanley cannot know about this, it would fucking disappoint Patty so much. And Richie could never fucking disappoint Patty-

It burst out of Richie just like it did the night before -rushed and impulsive.

"I told Eddie I loved him."

Bev paused, eyes softening and eyebrows pulled together -confused, "Eddie told you that he loved you, and you ran away?"

"No, I-" Richie let out a heavy breath, clarifying, "-I told Eddie that I loved him, and I ran away.

Beverly scrunched up her nose, dropping her hands from his face (all he could read was confusion), "What?"

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "What do you mean what?"

"Well," she let out a sigh, "-normally, when someone runs away after a love confession, it's not the one who confessed, Richie."

Richie pursed his lips, what's that supposed to mean?

"Wait," Bev deflected, grabbing her phone, "-shit. Eddie's probably freaked the fuck out right now."

Richie's stomach twisted, bile rising up his throat, "This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, Bevvy. I fucking knew it was too much-"

"Shut up," she raised a finger to his mouth, silencing him, "-That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then, what-"

"Eddie is probably worried about you," she clarified, flicking his nose, "-because, you overthink things. And you didn't even hear him out-"

"I saw his message after," Richie reasoned, maybe a little for his own conscience, "-he just said 'what'. I mean, how was I fucking supposed to take that-"

"Knowing you, Rich," Bev pointed out, carefully, "-you probably said it out of nowhere. So, I give him a pass about being shocked."

"Well, I just thought-" Richie tried, but his side didn't really seem to make sense anymore.

"No," she shook her head, "-no more thinking. Go answer your phone."

"But," Richie decidedly didn't move, "-what if-"

"Richie," she glared, hands smoothing down his shoulders, "-you don't know shit until you see it for yourself. So, for the love of all that is holy, go fucking answer your boyfriend."

Richie pursed his lips, hesitant to take any steps anywhere. He was so fucking scared-

"You know he's probably stressed the fuck out about this," she commented, accusing, "-about you."

Richie frowned. Eddie was probably fucking scared too, had been all night. Fuck-

"I don't want him to be stressed out, fuck-" he breathed out, burying his head in his hands, "-God, I'm so fucking stupid."

"Hey," Bev softened, moving to pull his head down to her shoulder, wrapping him into a hug, "-I think... I think Eddie knows that you were scared. That's why he's losing his shit-"

Richie breathed in her Bev smell (it was a more like feminine smell with a hint of a masculine musk, like a flower just after some rain), and leaned forward into her. It was kinda what he needed, maybe for the past few days. He just needed a fucking hug.

"-because you're scared, and he can't help you."

Fuck.

Richie let out a shaky breath, heart racing in his chest, "Fuck, Bevvy, what if I... What if I fucked it all up? What if he never even-"

"What did I say?" Bev pulled back, leveling his face to match hers, "-No more fucking thinking. You want answers? Go ask Eddie. It helps no one to speculate shit."

"I know, but-"

"No buts, Richie," she shoved him toward the direction of his bedroom, "-go answer your fucking boyfriend, and figure this shit out."

Richie turned back toward her.

"Like now," Bev snapped, pointing toward the door.

Richie smiled at her, a little tight (but to be fair, his anxiety was through the fucking roof), "Thanks, Red."

She lightened slightly, smiling back and stepping toward the door, "Tell me how it all goes. I love you, Rich, but don't test me again though, seriously-"

Richie near immediately chimed back, actually smiling, "Love you too, Bev."

She rolled her eyes and motioned him through the door further -eyes glinting in a way he didn't want to test. Richie obediently did so.

That brought him to now, staring at his nightstand and that dreaded fucking phone.

It was just as overwhelming as it was the first time, staring it down and not quite being able to grab it. Like he physically couldn't. Like everything in his body was fighting it. But, now, now there was something else in his mind.

Eddie, in his tiny apartment, clutching his shirt like he always did when he was anxious and tapping his foot so much that it shook the coffee table. Big brown eyes staring at his phone like it could get up and walk away. Like if he looked away it would disappear and he really didn't want it to disappear. Richie remembered when his breaths would get so fast, and he'd talk himself up-

Richie didn't hesitate to grab his phone.

He was confronted with a growing list of notifications, spanning from a range throughout the night. Missed calls and texts every hour or so. Had he even slept last night? He thumbed through the notifications, calculating the time difference in his head.

Richie frowned again, No. He did not. Or at least, not more than like an hour.

God, Eddie-

His hands moved to Instagram, instinctively. Throughout a slew of missed calls (and videochats), there were just a few messages.

e.kaspbrak
What

[missed call from e.kaspbrak (x2)]

Richie, answer your phone, dickweed.

[missed call from e.kaspbrak]

Rich, seriously, this isn't funny.

I know you didn't just fall asleep in two seconds.

[missed call from e.kaspbrak]

Richie, you're freaking me the fuck out.

If this is some sort of joke, I'm going to be so pissed.

[missed call from e.kaspbrak (x3)]

Come on, Richie. This isn't fucking funny.

[missed call from e.kaspbrak]

Are you okay?

[missed call from e.kaspbrak (x4)]

Richie felt like fucking vomiting. He didn't text any after that one, it was all calls. Just call after call. God, he was such a dumbass. Eddie was up all night, fucking paranoid. Because what? Richie was scared of rejection? That he wasn't even sure he'd get from Eddie. It was so fucking selfish, and he felt like shit.

He wasn't gonna make him wait anymore.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
hey eds I'm sorry I didn't respond

I was really fucking scared and I didn't want you to end things and I just panicked

and I'm sorry

If you don't want to talk to me, I get it

Richie let a breath in through his nose and out his mouth. He wasn't sure if he should even expect a response at this point. Maybe he was sleeping, which would be good, actually so-

e.kaspbrak is calling

He was scared as fuck, but there was no way in hell he wasn't answering it. Not after all the calls he missed already. So, with a breath, he accepted and pulled it up to his ear.

It was silent for a second, so Richie spoke instead. Eddie had done enough already, anyway.

"Eds?"

There was a shuffling, and Richie held his breath.

"Look, I am unbelievably fucking mad at you right now," his voice echoed through the line, and it was a little shaky and too fast, "-but I can't fucking articulate that properly because I'm so fucking happy to hear your stupid ass voice."

"I'm really happy to hear you too, Eds," Richie laughed a little, eyes a little teary, "-And you should, you should be mad at me, I'm a fucking idiot-"

"Did you mean it?" He interrupted, and he was definitely sniffling.

Richie flexed his hands once, hearing Eddie cry because of him made him want to throw himself off the nearest bridge. Or maybe book the next flight, and hug him until he physically couldn't anymore.

"Mean what, Eds?" Richie asked, gently.

"Do you actually love me?"

Richie's heart twisted in his chest (he didn't think I meant it?), "Yes, yeah. Of course, I fucking love you. What do you mean?"

"I was-" Eddie started, before clearing his throat, "-I thought it might've been a stupid joke, I don't-"

"What?" Richie whispered, "-No, I know I'm a fucking idiot sometimes, but I wouldn't... I wouldn't do that."

"Well, I just-" Eddie let out a breath, and it was much slower (Richie hoped it was somehow because of him), "-I don't know. I just got fucking scared. And then you weren't responding. And I thought that you might think I didn't-"

"I'm so fucking sorry, Eds," Richie interrupted, "-I fucking hate myself because of this whole thing. I love you, and I just stressed you out, what kinda bo-"

"Don't fucking say that," Eddie hissed out, "-I am mad as shit at you, but you're still you, Richie. You're my boyfriend, you can't shit on yourself. Because if you were anyone else, I would beat the shit out of you."

Richie barked out a laugh, loud and sharp. He heard Eddie laugh a little too, like he couldn't help it. It made something stir in his stomach, and it just slipped out.

"God," he spoke through laughter, "-I fucking love you, Eds. You're such a little shit."

Eddie's laugh got louder, it might have even changed to a giggle if he was honest. It made Richie fucking giddy; I love you, Eds, love, love, love-

Richie's mouth opened, and he just let him say what he wanted to. Eddie already had his dramatic confession, it was his turn anyway.

"Eds, I really fucking love you," he spoke, tone genuine and he was smiling (Eddie wasn't running away), "-and I know I talk a lot of shit. But this... I'm being honest. There's no fucking shitty joke. I feel like I've been in love with you my whole life-"

"Richie," Eddie breathed out, but it was a little shaky and quiet (maybe like he was crying).

"-which I don't know how that fucking works, because we've only known each other for months so-"

"Richie," he tried again.

"-but it feels like that. It does. Like Richie Tozier is supposed to love Eddie Kaspbrak. Like it's the fucking Earth turning-"

"Richie-"

"-and every time you talk, it just rings through my head. Because you're so... you. And I love the fuck out of you. So, when you said all that shit to... to reassure me, and then you were just... Eddie telling me that you were pissed off at them, on my behalf, and I just... I couldn't fucking stop it."

He took in a big breath, but he wasn't scared. Eddie deserved to fucking hear it. Even if he didn't love him back, right now, he'd still tell him everyday. Until he died, probably. Even if they broke up (which the thought made Richie want to shrivel up and die), his last words would be: I love you, Eddie Kaspbrak-

"You're making it really fucking hard to hate you, right now," Eddie spoke, in what Richie knew to be frustration (the kind where he puffed up his cheeks a little).

Richie laughed, shuffling his feet a little (like he had energy he couldn't let out which he always fucking did), "I try."

Eddie brought on this whole new side of himself like he couldn't stop fucking smiling and he fucking loved someone. And god, he had never loved someone like he loved Eddie, or maybe never loved at all-

"I wanna say-"

Richie somehow immediately knew where it was going, "Eds, you don't have to say anything. Seriously. If you're not ready, there's no rush. I'll fucking be here as long as you need me to be."

"Richie," Eddie leveled, "-that is sweet as fuck. Probably the sweetest thing you're fucking capable of saying. But I need you to listen to me-"

"I dunno Eddie baby," Richie teased, "-I could go sweeter."

"Richie," Eddie tried to say seriously, but he was laughing through it, "-shut the fuck up."

Richie politely cut it back. He could always tease him until he nearly blew a blood vessel later (it was kinda his favorite thing to do, honestly). Preferably on a video call, so he could see the red go all the way up his face-

"I think I want to come earlier."

Richie nearly dropped his fucking phone, "What?"

Eddie continued, almost bashfully (Richie added the new tone to one of his Eddie files), "I hate New York. The people here suck, the streets are loud, the whole place smells so fucking bad-"

Richie snorted.

"-and you're just in San Francisco, fucking waiting. For what? For money I can't even get to? I mean, it's practically fucking invisible-"

Richie was smiling way too big for his face.

"-and I'm just fucking sitting here in a shitty apartment because I already paid rent. And you, my boyfriend who fucking loves me, are across the fucking country in a fancy ass apartment-"

"I wouldn't call it fancy, Spaghetti," Richie interrupted, going into a 'fancy' accent, "-It's not like butlers are waiting on me, or there are fucking... marble floors. It's just got a nice kitchen, and is in a nice walkable part of-"

"That's not the fucking-" Eddie let out a sigh, recentering himself, "-It's got you, dipshit. That's what I mean. You're there."

Richie grinned, "I mean... so is Bev-"

"You are such an asshole," Eddie huffed out, unsuccessfully hiding a laugh, "-didn't I tell you to shut up? I'm trying to fucking say something."

"Yes dear," Richie responded, flatly.

"Oh my god, Richie-"

"Okay, okay," he let out a laugh, putting his hands up in surrender (even though Eddie could not see him), "-I'm done, I'm done. Go ahead, Eds."

"I fucking hate you," Eddie retorted, with no bite.

"Agree to disagree," Richie remarked, before adding, "-Seriously, I'm done. Scout's honor."

"That means fuck all if you weren't an actual Scout, dickweed."

"How do you know I wasn't?" Richie proposed -curious.

"I just know," Eddie responded oddly. Like he was-

"Oh my god, Eds-" Richie almost jumped in fucking place, "-were you a fucking Boy Scout? With the cute little uniform and sash and hat-"

Eddie huffed out, "It's a really good program, asshole."

"-Please tell me you have pictures, Eds, you don't understand. I will print it out and frame it on my wall."

There was a pause.

"You have pictures?!"

"Well, fucking yeah," Eddie spit out, maybe a little embarrassed, "-obviously. And they're already fucking photos, they're in like a baby book-"

"Eddie baby," Richie cut off, "-please tell me you're packing that."

"Of course I am, asshole," Eddie retorted, "-It's all my fucking memories, why wouldn't I take it with me?"

"Thank god," Richie raised a hand, silently thanking somewhere in the sky.

"If you're gonna make fun of me-" Eddie started, prickly and defensive.

"Eds, no," Richie clarified, laughing (which was not helping his case), "-I would physically sacrifice myself to see your baby photos. You are so fucking cute now, I can't imagine you as a baby. Especially in a lil Boy Scout uniform-"

"Yeah, okay, well," Eddie blew out a breath, and Richie could tell he was flustered, "-I'm bringing it. So."

Richie processed that for a second (and maybe he did a physical fist pump, no one really knew) before his mind flickered elsewhere. And his mouth was off like a rocket, like it always was.

"How soon?" He spoke, palpably excited -grinning way too fucking bright, "-How soon do you want to come?"

"Maybe if you hadn't fucking distracted me," Eddie reasoned, "-you'd know that."

"Eddie baby," Richie spoke (yes, he was pulling that card), actually apologetic, "-I'm so sorry. When do you want to move in with me?"

There was a silence, and Richie could nearly hear his resolve weakening (bingo). He probably had his arms crossed and was rolling his eyes-

"It's like supposed to be two months, right?" Eddie asked.

Richie was totally not counting the days (nor had he bought a physical fucking calendar just to write Eds in a heart on the day he was supposed to get here), "Give or take."

"Well," he paused, mulling it over, "-I think at most a month. Maybe."

"At most?" Richie asked -blankly.

"It'll probably be as soon as I can sort out all my shit," Eddie stated -plainly, like he wasn't changing Richie's whole life, "-I have to pack, talk to my shitty landlord, and buy the plane tickets-"

"Aren't you afraid of flying?" Richie asked genuinely.

Eddie seemed to pause for a second, processing, "How did you-"

And then he stopped.

"-Forgot about your fucking Eddie files."

Richie snorted again.

"Yeah, I am," Eddie addressed, "-but the trip is like fucking 40 hours long-"

"43," Richie instinctively corrected. Shit.

"Have you-" Eddie seemed to process for a second, "-Have you searched that up?"

Richie gnawed on his lip for a second, trying to figure out how he wanted to go about this. Eddie already knew that he loved him, to be fair, so it probably explained any of his behavior enough for a pass.

"Well, you were talking about moving in, and-" Richie breathed out -hesitantly, "-you're afraid of flying, so I.. So I looked into it."

"What were you gonna do? Drive to me?" Eddie laughed a little.

Richie was definitely not laughing. Eddie's laughter cut short, and there was a second.

"Rich," Eddie echoed out, disbelieving,"-are you serious?"

"Well, I just," Richie pursed his lips, before relented, "-Yeah, okay, yeah. I was, Eds. But if you... If you just want to fly though-"

"No," Eddie interrupted, "-No, I'd rather drive."

"The whole 43 hours?" Richie asked, genuinely.

"Well, it's fucking different," Eddie offered, most definitely a little flustered.

"How exactly?" Richie laughed, "-The trip is the same amount of time, Eddie baby. Well, I guess I could shave off some time if I-"

"Shut the fuck up," he cut him off, directly, "-You're not doing shit."

"Sir yes sir!" he chimed -instinctively.

He could nearly hear Eddie roll his eyes, it made him grin.

"It's different because it's with you, dickweed," Eddie answered, "-I wanna do it with you. Obviously."

"Yeah, well," Richie was smiling, "-I did tell you I'd do anything you wanted, Eds."

"Well then, okay," Eddie paused, "-come and get me in a month."

"Just a vague month?"

"No, fucking of course not," he automatically responded, "-I'll give you a specific day, and time. And on that point, you better not be late."

"Ah," Richie sighed, "-there's my Eds that I know and love."

"Yeah," Eddie spoke softly, maybe in disbelief, "-you love me."

Richie smiled, eyes falling to his feet. This was something he never wanted to forget, even though he'd be here so soon. He didn't want to forget these calls, ever. He hoped he could recount them until he was old and gray.

"Fuck yeah, I do, Eds."

In retrospect, Richie didn't realize that Eddie hadn't said it back. But, he didn't really care. Eddie would say it whenever he wanted to. Frankly, as long as Eddie kept dating him, he didn't need it. Don't get him wrong, if Eddie said 'I love you', Richie could probably die happy. Or maybe never have another bad day in his life-

Today, Richie was streaming. It was a boring one, a Q&A but he was kinda tired so, it would work. His subs actually liked Q&As because Richie would wholeheartedly answer all kinds of things. It was limitless, the mods really only stepped in on super serious shit.

"Hey motherfuckers," he chimed, grinning brightly (his subs were used to his new smile by now), "-how are we today? Anyone have shit to share with the class?"

Richie skimmed through the chat.

"Pretty sure my Mom slept with my boyfriend," he read, raising his eyebrows, "-Shit, dude. What the fuck? I'm not even sure what to say to that. My condolences...? Is that like shitty of me to say-"

stan.the.man donated $1: no I think that's fair

"Stanthony, hey," he smiled, shooting finger guns at the camera, "-welcome to the stream. No good birds to watch?"

dizknees: a q & a in this economy ???

girlie-pops: hey trashmouth

elite._.gamer: started with the games ended with the streamer

too.tough.to.cry: how do we submit questions

trashy.tozier: @/dizknees I know I'm scared of what these questions are gonna be

stan.the.man: fuck you richie

trashmouth-for-me: @/too.tough.to.cry the link in the description

benny.boy: hey rich !!!

babey_boy: this is going to be so fucking cursed

"Hi Ben," Richie chimed again, "-I'll give it a few minutes for all your questions to come in-" his eyes darted to the submissions (it was growing exponentially), "-Actually, we're pretty fucking full as is."

Giving chat one last glance, Richie turned to the form, skimming through the submissions -this was going to be a total shitshow. But hey, that's what the trashies loved so... he was here to deliver.

"Who do you think tops, Luigi or Bowser?" He read out, pressing his lips together and furrowing his eyebrows, "-Are we talking about Mario? Like big turtle monster and Italian plumber?"

trashy.tozier: yeah it's from the movie

"Oh, the new movie?" Richie asked, which chat confirmed, "-Yeah, I won't watch it, fucking hate that Chris Pratt got it, honestly-"

trashmouth-for-me: say less king

ghostie_girl77: no bc exactly

cryingandscreaming: so reallll

bouncing-baby-boy: I liked it 🤷‍♂️

the.losers.are.better: I like him as star-lord and in parks and rec

girlie-pops: @/bouncing-baby-boy red flag

flying_froggerz900: I only watched it for jack black

toziers-trash: say that

your._.mom: period

gnarlybabes: peaches peaches peaches peaches

"I mean, it seems kind of obvious...?" Richie brought himself back to the question, thinking, "-Bowser is a fucking monster king, and Luigi is like a more... fragile character. Unless he has another side to him, but I don't get those vibes, and fucking trust me, I know them-"

Honk, honk!

reddy.bevvy donated $1: hi love you but shut up :)

"Bevvy! Love you too-" he grinned and blew a few kisses to the camera, before refocusing, "-I think Bowser is my final answer. Alright, next question-"

He clapped his hands once, peering over the list and reading, "What is the sexiest finger?"

"Oh, easy," Richie waved it off dismissively, "-middle."

dizknees: EXACTLYYYY

an_idiot_sandwich32: no bc there's literally no other answer what

hunterz-dream: if you disagree think again

babey_boy: obvi

trashy.tozier: anyone seen 🍝 ?

girlie-pops: the only other valid answer is maybe ring

elite._.gamer: this makes no sense but he is right

It went on like that for a while, with somehow both questions he'd expected and questions he most certainly did not (some about Minecraft, and also asking if he preferred Coraline's mom before or after spiderization, typical stream really). And then, he saw it.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Richie read out, licking along his teeth -debating (they had talked about this, but he didn't want to cross any boundaries).

He mulled it over for a second, before deciding to answer, "Yeah, actually, I do."

trashy.tozier: WHATTTT

tell_me_a_lie: there goes our single rep

reddy.bevvy: 😉

dizknees: 🍝 ? 👀👀👀

babey_boy: we lost another one ✋️😔

too.tough.to.cry: wait fr

girlie-pops: let's go gays

trashmouth-for-me: @/dizknees reddie real ???

toziers-trash: real or imaginary

your._.mom: trashmouth lore drop

genuine._.disappointment: imma die alone

stan.the.man: @/toziers-trash tragically real

girls.girl: tell me more

Richie promptly didn't say anything else about it. Mostly so he could figure out specifics with Eddie later. He wanted to tell them, honestly, but he wasn't gonna do anything without talking to him. Richie's life was already public, Eddie deserved the choice -he stood by that solidly.

And so the stream moved on, well, until it didn't.

"I'm not really sure about the-"

Bzzt, bzzt.

Richie paused, cutting himself off. His eyes dashed to his phone, eyeing the screen. It was an actual phone call-

💞 Eds 💞

He furrowed his eyebrows, a little concerned, before turning to the camera.

"There's the man now, folks," he chimed, happily, and moved the screen over to the break one -promptly muting his mic, "-Gimme one second."

He spun in his chair, facing the wall, just in case, and answering.

"Eddie baby, what's up?" He asked, in a casual sort of concern.

Eddie immediately responded, bristly (maybe because of concern on his part too), "What's up? I've been trying to call you for fifteen fucking minutes-"

"Eds, relax," Richie laughed, "-I had my Instagram notifications off."

"What, why?" Eddie asked -innocently (it was really fucking cute).

"Well, Spaghetti," Richie added -carefully, "-I'm streaming right now."

"What?" Eddie asked again.

"Don't worry about it," Richie quickly amended, "-I'm muted and have my little break thing up."

"No that's not-" Eddie seemed to pause, voice more distant like he was looking on his phone (maybe had him on speaker), "-I didn't get a notification. Since when are you streaming today?"

"I told you this morning," Richie replied, laughing, "-It's just a Q&A. They actually... They actually asked me if I had a boyfriend."

"And...?" Eddie questioned, plainly. It made Richie want to squirm, because he couldn't tell what the right answer was.

"I told 'em yeah," he answered, slowly, "-but I didn't say it was you or anything so-"

"Why not?"

Richie paused, pressing his lips together, "You... You want me to?"

"Well, yeah," Eddie clarified, a little flustered, "-I already told you that."

"It was actually more kinda implied," Richie noted before pointing out, "-I didn't just wanna say shit without your fucking... approval, Eds."

"Well, I'm giving it," Eddie replied, sturdily.

"Okay, so-" Richie laughed a little, "-I'm just gonna tell chat that we're dating?"

"I don't fucking know, dipshit," Eddie bit back, "-it's your stream."

Richie gnawed at his lips, trying to think. Could he just work it into the conversation? Would that be forced and awkward? How the fuck did he want to do this?

He took a deep breath in, trying to think. He could hear Eddie shifting through the phone, and he thought his mic might actually pick it up if it was on-

Wait.

"Eds," Richie grinned, "-how do you feel about being on stream?"

"On stream?" Eddie questioned.

"Yeah, like your voice," Richie clarified, "-through the phone."

There was silence for a second.

"They already know I'm on the phone with my boyfriend," Richie explained, "-all I have to do is call you Spaghetti, and chat will connect the dots."

Eddie was slow to speak, but it came out a little frantic, "What the fuck am I supposed to say? I don't-"

"Just hi," Richie soothed, stopping the Kaspbrak spiral -effectively, "-Nothing else."

There was another pause.

"I'll be right fucking here, Eds," Richie said, gently, "-You know that."

Eddie let out a big breath, "Okay, yeah. Let's do it."

Richie gave him a little warning, before unmuting the mic and changing it back to the camera. He watched for a second as chat seemed to acknowledge him, and the grinned real big -putting the phone on speaker.

"Alright, everyone," he chimed, dramatically, "-say hi to Spaghetti."

"Hi," Eddie's voice echoed out, softer than usual (Richie thought it was both the cutest thing in the world and nothing compared to what he knew to be his actual voice). He actually seemed fucking nervous, which was new -Richie promptly added it to the Eddie files.

genuine._.disappointment: EDDIE ???

girls.girl: 👋👋👋

bubblingbabz: hi richie's bf

hog-inthebog: hiiiiiiii

younganddumb: reddie exists??? love wins

toziers-trash: no fucking way

powderpuffdonuts: 👋👋👋

stop.it.bruv56: 🍝🍝🍝

minecrafter.on.main: eddie stream when

dizknees: HOLY SHIT

babey_boy: 🍝 ???

trashmouth-for-me: I FUCKING KNEW IT

girlie-pops: no bc my gaydar was off the charts with those chats

trashy.tozier: @/trashmouth-for-me REDDIE CONFIRMED

tozier_babeyyyy: somebody clip that I gotta start a comp

elite._.gamer: 👋👋👋

harness-safety19: 🍝🍝🍝

only-here-for-trashmouth: @/tozier_babeyyyy 10 times trashmouth mentioned eddie and eddie told him to stfu

bevs.boa: hiiii spaghetti 🍝

trashy.tozier: @/tozier_babeyyyy @/only-here-for-trashmouth JSJKISNSJHSBSH

grumpy_frog: 👋👋👋

Richie smiled, eyeing the chat (Reddie, huh?), before pulling his phone back and turning off speaker phone. He was honestly giddy, of all things.

"Chats going fucking bonkers," Richie laughed into the phone, "-They really fucking love you, Eds."

"Yeah?" Eddie asked -maybe a little nervous.

"You should see it," he assured, "-They're all like saying Reddie confirmed. Apparently, they were clued in already, Eddie baby."

"Reddie?"

"Our ship name, Spaghetti," Richie chimed back, "-obviously."

"They do that for fucking real people?" Eddie remarked, and he could almost see the nose shrivel, "-Ew, what the fuck?"

"Oh, Eds, my sweet summer child," Richie hummed, "-I have a lot to teach you."

"Not that," Eddie emphasized, sharply, "-anything but that."

Richie promptly ignored him, teasing, "What if I got it tatted? Reddie forever, right above my heart-"

"You wouldn't fucking dare," Eddie chastised, "-I'd rather stay in New York than see that shit."

"Oh my, my, my-" Richie fanned himself like a damsel, "-Spaghetti is expecting to see me with my shirt off? How scandalous-"

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie replied, and Richie knew that he was getting flustered (God, he loved him), "-You're an idiot, and I can't stand you."

"Yeah, well," Richie hummed, "-I'm in fucking love with you, so looks like you're fucked, Eds."

Eddie laughed that time, and Richie felt it all the way down to his toes, "That makes it so hard to fucking argue with you, you know that?"

"What does?" Richie asked, almost forgetting he was on stream.

Eddie paused for a second, it came out in a huff of breath (flustered again), "You saying you love me."

Richie grinned, and wondered why he was so nervous about it in the first place. All of that seemed so stupid now.

"Well, Eddie baby," Richie breathed out, "-ya better get fucking used to it."

Chapter Text

big.bill ✔️
What about Minecraft?

Richie paused, pressing his lips together.

They'd all been debating a game to stream together since Eddie had asked to play with him (and the Losers). Most of the good ones were limited to like 4, so it was actually pretty fucking hard. Every other day, someone would suggest one, and they'd all debate it. There was nothing that quite clicked yet.

Well, until now.

benny.boy.official ✔️
I've got it on both pc and console

he'd just have to make an account

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
that would make my chat so fucking happy

they have been asking for it for like a month

stan.the.man ✔️
Why haven't you played it then?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
not in my minecraft phase tbh

it happens like once a year

mike.me.up ✔️
I've seen reels about that

Is that a universal experience ?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
I think so

reddy.bevvy ✔️
no it's true mine was like last month

lasted 4 months

and then poof

Richie was about to text again, but somebody cut him off.

e.kaspbrak
I've played it like once. Ever.

stan.the.man ✔️
It's honestly pretty easy.

You don't have to know the more complicated stuff. Just the basics.

benny.boy.official ✔️
I can teach you Eddie ☺️

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
see eds don't worry ur pretty lil head about it

we got u

e.kaspbrak
Shut the fuck up, asshole.

And thanks, Ben.

Richie laughed, he really fucking loved him. And his weird ass responses to him. Like who responds so aggressively to someone they like, that they're dating. Richie digs it, so who gives a fuck, honestly-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
isn't he just so sweet guys

stan.the.man ✔️
You need to be humbled anyway, Rich.

e.kaspbrak
@/stan.the.man You too.

Richie laughed again, taking a moment to absorb it all. His angry little Eds. He knew he was totally 100% serious too, it was nice in a weird sort of way.

mike.me.up ✔️
ooh, you're in trouble~

reddy.bevvy ✔️
that's right Eddie, stick up for your man 😤😤😤

benny.boy.official ✔️
uh oh

big.bill ✔️
Wow.

stan.the.man ✔️
I respect that, Eddie.

Did we decide on Minecraft?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
eds ?

There was a pause, and Richie mulled over the idea. All of them playing Minecraft. The Losers had done it before, many times, actually. It was a mix of things, survival, creative, and even like the online games (Richie remembers being particularly competitive). It would be different now, with Eddie.

Maybe he could build them both a house, and they could share it-

e.kaspbrak
Yeah, let's do it.

The stream was in a few days, they'd all kind of correlated depending on their schedules, and it all lined up. Which was very responsible of them, so, he was proud of himself. (A win is a win, as they say.) He was troubleshooting Minecraft actually, making sure there were no big ass updates (because there always were) and testing it to make sure it would run properly later.

Richie had also offered to buy an online realm so they could all play together wherever the fuck they were. And so everyone could stream playing it later without someone needing to be there. Any way to get more content, am I right? It was all going pretty good, honestly-

Bzzt, bzzt.

He blinked, moving to his phone (which was vibrating). Grabbing it swiftly, he eyed the reason.

e.kaspbrak is calling

Richie didn't hesitate a moment, smiling big and bright.

"Hey Eddie baby," he cheered, grinning -spinning away from his computer, to give him his undivided attention (like he always did).

"Are you busy?" He asked (like it would matter if he was).

"Never too much for you, Eds," Richie replied with ease, "-Whatcha need?"

"I just-" Eddie started, voice cutting off for a second, "-The stream is stressing me the fuck out."

Richie frowned, "Why?"

"I'm just so fucking nervous," Eddie rush out in a breath, "-What if I can't fucking talk? What's the whole point?"

"Eds, if you can't do it," Richie explained, "-you can't do it. Everybody would understand."

"I know that," Eddie sighed out, speaking faster (Richie could tell he was working himself up), "-but I want to, I do-"

"Okay, okay," Richie relented, softly, "-I hear you."

He could hear Eddie let out a heavy breath, but it was slow. Slower than before, Richie noted it. I can work with this-

"Let's-" Richie started, before pressing his lips together and thinking, "-I can tell when you're working yourself up, Eds, so... if I hear it, I will get you off the stream. Even if it's just for a second."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course, Eds," Richie spoke like it was obvious (which it was), "-I fucking love you. I'm going to help you through shit. Obviously."

Eddie stayed silent. Richie couldn't tell if it was good or bad, so he went with his failsafe-

"You forget I'm your boyfriend?" Richie laughed, "-I know I'm a shithead but-"

"Shut up, asshole," Eddie started to laugh too (Richie was happy with that), "-you're such a dick."

They laughed together for a second, and it stirred into Richie's chest like it always did. He hoped it would feel the same every time, and he was pretty sure it would. It made something more genuine slip from him.

"I'm gonna take care of you, Eds," Richie offered, softly. As genuine as he figured he could ever be, "-okay?"

There was a silence then, a comfortable one. He didn't think it'd ever be uncomfortable with Eddie. He and Eddie just fucking... worked. It rattled through his bones sometimes. He felt like he'd known him his whole life.

"Yeah," Eddie spoke, quietly, "-I know."

"Wow, did you just Han Solo me?" Richie laughed out, playfully.

"Well," he could almost hear Eddie's face scrunch up in frustration, "-what the fuck did you want me to say? Fucking thank you-"

"Oh, I'll take care of you too," Richie listed off, "-Richie, you're the best boyfriend ever-"

"You are such an asshole," Eddie was laughing again and Richie only grinned wider, "-It's common sense for boyfriends to take care of each other, dipshit-"

"Hey," Richie interrupted, playfully (a jab at himself really), "-not in all relationships, Spaghetti."

It was silent for a second, and Richie was a little nervous that he'd crossed some sort of line. Eddie was fiercely protective, even if it was Richie shitting on himself-

"I swear to fucking god, I wish I could beat the shit out of your exes."

Richie snorted, bursting into laughter, "I'm starting to think you're serious, Eds."

"Richie," Eddie leveled, "-I am dead fucking serious."

Richie's laughter cut short, and he pressed his lips together, "You... Seriously?"

Eddie responded, plainly, "I harassed your ex into blocking me on Instagram, dipshit."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"No buts," Eddie interrupted, "-If I wouldn't catch charges, I'd beat the shit out of every single one. Especially, that bitch Connor-"

"My hero, Eds," Richie sighed out, dramatically, "-I'd bail you out."

"Haha," Eddie bit back, sarcastically, "-I'm not gonna get criminal charges, Rich. Not even for you."

"But like-" Richie asked, clarifying, "-in the Purge-"

"Oh yeah," Eddie answered, instinctively (on the exact same wavelength), "-they better watch their fucking backs."

Richie laughed again. Ah Eddie, my little shit. What the fuck would I do without you?

Richie hoped he'd never fucking find out. God, he really fucking hoped, with everything in him, that he'd get Eddie forever. Just fucking forever. He'd do anything-

reddy.bevvy ✔️
stream day babes !!!

Richie blinked at the message like he hadn't been sitting at his computer for the last hour. He was fucking excited, sue him-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
how we feeling fellas

big.bill ✔️
Gonna try and get to the Ender Dragon this stream.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
what a fucking mad lad

stan.the.man ✔️
You are clinically insane, Bill.

big.bill ✔️
Speedruns exist for a reason, Stanley.

benny.boy.official ✔️
super excited !!!

setting up Eddie now

reddy.bevvy ✔️
how did he do with your tutorial?

benny.boy.official ✔️
really good !!!

he hates the skeletons though

mike.me.up ✔️
valid take

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
no he's right

they're almost as shitty as the children

stan.the.man ✔️
???

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
the zombie kids

it's funnier to just call them a child

reddy.bevvy ✔️
where is Eddie ???

Richie pursed his lips, something biting at him. Eddie wasn't freaking himself out, was he? It made something in his stomach swirl-

e.kaspbrak
You guys are really fucking impatient.

It's been like 3 minutes since the conversation started.

Richie smiled.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
3 minutes is long in internet time, eds

e.kaspbrak
I don't believe shit that comes out of your mouth, Rich.

mike.me.up ✔️
get a room you two

reddy.bevvy ✔️
come back to me guys

Richie, are you streaming first?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yea

I gotta invite everyone to the realm anyway

speaking of what's eds's gamertag ???

There was an odd pause in the chat, it made Richie furrow his eyebrows. He licked a line along his teeth, waiting a moment. What the fuck-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
hello ???

benny.boy.official ✔️
I don't wanna get in trouble

Richie furrowed his eyebrows even more, frowning. What the fuck-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
sweet, sweet benny boy

I can't add him if I don't know his gamertag

There was another pause.

benny.boy.official ✔️
eddie.spaghetti

Richie burst into the brightest fucking grin he thought he'd ever been able to grin.

e.kaspbrak
Don't fucking start.

mike.me.up ✔️
he's definitely already started

hate to break it to you

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
aweeeee 💞❤️🤭💞❤️

eds likes me guyssss

stan.the.man ✔️
Yeah, we know Richie.

big.bill ✔️
Actually, Eddie are you going to start gaming yourself?

Like streaming?

There was another pause, and he watched as Eddie typed in the corner. Little bubbles flickering by.

e.kaspbrak
No.

I think I'm good being known as Trashmouth's boyfriend.

Richie was never going to get over that. My boyfriend, Eddie's my boyfriend, mine, my boyfriend-

stan.the.man ✔️
A brave soul.

mike.me.up ✔️
fair point

Rich is a lot to handle and also highly sought after

Yeah, Richie never really got that. He definitely had fans that were into him like that (he'd seen the edits, which significantly had most clips of him with his glasses off weirdly). He didn't really like it, or agree with it. But he was flattered, in some way. And also maybe weirded out.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
Eddie was one of those

so I think he knows

Richie grinned.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
celebrity crush for a year and a half babeyyyyyy

e.kaspbrak
Bev, why the fuck would you do that?

He's never gonna shut the fuck up about it now.

mike.me.up ✔️
to be fair I wouldn't either

stan.the.man ✔️
Yeah, you're kind of fucked on that one, Eddie.

big.bill ✔️
Way too good to pass up.

e.kaspbrak
I hate all of you.

That brought Richie to now, fidgeting with his hands as he made some adjustments to the game. Adding everyone in was pretty easy, honestly, he'd just want to do a final test run on his equipment. He went through a checklist in his head: charged controller, good framerate, open discord, and a slew of just stream shit.

Mindlessly, he adjusted his collar, he was actually wearing one of the two Bev made him (the one with the stars, he should clarify). It was really comfortable, and nicely colored. It might’ve been his favorite shirt honestly-

There was a little chime, and Richie opened his mouth to see if it was on the call or the game-

"Hey, Rich," Stan commented, "-You're early."

"Staniel, hey," Richie countered, "-You gonna go ahead and join the world?"

"Yeah, sure," Stan answered, "-I'm just checking some of my stream shit."

"Yeah, oka-"

Chime.

"Hi," Bev smiled, "-how's setting up, you two?"

"I actually troubleshooted today," Ruchie commented, "-so you guys should be very fucking proud of me."

"That's the bare minimum, Rich," Stan responded, flatly.

Bev clapped, he could hear it through her microphone, "Good job, honey."

There was a pause.

Chime.

"Hey g-guys," Bill called out, "-everything working on t-the world, R-Rich?"

"You know it, Billy," Richie chimed back.

Chime.

"Hello," Mike spoke, cheerfully, "-how's everybody doing?"

Everyone chimed in how they felt, respectfully one at a time though. They'd already figured out a balance, especially in regards to talking. Their streams needed to be organized, so all the kinks were already worked out.

Stanley started up, judgementally, "Did you seriously name it 'Tenacious D'?"

"Yep," Richie answered, "-What can I say, I love Jack Black."

"A-And it's a dick j-joke," Bill added.

Richie pursed his lips, before admitting, "And it's a dick joke."

Chime.

"Hey guys," Ben cheered out -soft and gentle like he always was. It offered a different kind of vibe to the group, a nicer one. Warm, inviting. Richie understood why people liked watching his streams, "-Imma run over and fix Eddie's mic-"

Richie suddenly realized they were most definitely in different rooms, why didn't he think of that beforehand? He did kinda want Eddie to be on his streams in person first, though, so he was kinda fucking glad, honestly-

Chime.

There was silence.

"Eddie?" Beverly called, gently.

"I think he's nervous," Ben answered back, carefully.

Richie was gnawing at his lip. His hands fidgeting with some of the shit on his desk, he tapped along the wood.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," she chimed again, softer.

He scrambled for a second, trying to figure out how exactly to help in front of everybody. How to get Eddie out of his head-

"Imma annoy you until you unmute, Eds," he sung out -off key, of course.

Nothing.

"Billy, Mikey," Richie hummed, knowing exactly who to recruit, "-start a chant with me."

"Y-Yeah, okay," Bill responded.

Mike agreed -wholeheartedly, "Let's do it, Rich."

"UNMUTE! UNMUTE! UNMUTE!"

"Guys, shut the hell up," Ben spoke -flatly, "-this is very stressful for him."

Richie's lips snapped shut, and the others followed suite. Oh shit.

Bev chimed then, softly, "Eddie, it's okay if you don't want to talk, we understand."

Richie was gnawing at his lip again, wringing his hands (he wanted to fucking be there and fucking help-), "You know we understand if you can't do it, Eds. And you sure as fuck know I'm not gonna hate you for it."

I love you, you know that. That's not going away.

There was a sigh, what Richie knew to be an Eddie sigh. He had like everything about him memorized, seriously. Richie lightened just a little.

"It's okay," Eddie breathed out, faster than he should (Richie logged it in his head), "-I'm just really fucking nervous-"

It's like a switch in Richie's brain flipped, a lightbulb going off in his head. It was just instinct, helping Eddie calm down. (He was half joking and half genuine, as he always was.)

He leaned back in his chair, distancing himself from the microphone (for dramatic effect, of course. And maybe not to blow people's ears out).

"HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK I’M IN LOVE-"

"Oh, shut up, asshole," Eddie laughed, his favorite kind actually -the one he meant (he really was so fucking in love with him, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops), "-You're such a fucking moron."

"Yeah," Stanley responded, "-sounds like Richie's type."

Bill agreed, "N-No yeah, d-definitely."

"Eddie, I'm so glad to actually hear you," Bev smiled, avoiding the other two -distinctly (like she was a disappointed mother), "-I've only heard your voice through videos."

"It's weird," he laughed a little, "-hearing all of you guys. I'm so used to your streams, it's fucking weird to hear you talking to me. Other than Ben and Mike, obviously. And well, Richie too."

"T-That, must've b-been fucking weird," Bill spoke, kinda like a question, "-fucking flirting w-with your celebrity c-crush? I c-can't even imagine-"

"It's not," Eddie spoke suddenly, before amending, "-Don't get me wrong when I saw that he liked my post, I literally almost ate shit-"

"How?" Bev laughed.

"I was on a morning jog," Eddie clarified, "-heard my phone chime through my headphones, and almost fucking faceplanted."

"Hey, I didn't know that," Richie complained, maybe pouting his lips like a sad toddler (no one else could see so, it didn't matter).

"You would've said something stupid about it," Eddie explained, plainly, "-and I hear enough of your stupid shit."

Richie opened his mouth to respond, like he always did with Eddie. Probably like 'I thought you liked when I said shit'-

"How is it not?" Ben steered the conversation back, gentle and calm.

Eddie seemed to take a second, and Richie waited. He was really fucking invested in this, honestly. He wanted to know-

"I don't fucking know, it's-" he started, most definitely flustered (Richie could physically see the puffed-up cheeks in his mind), "-It was strangely fucking natural. Like I've known him forever. Been dealing with his shit forever-"

Richie felt something squeeze in his chest. He knew he felt that way, but to know Eddie did too? It made his heart burst so much that he felt like it might claw out of his chest and land in Eddie's hands. Where it fucking belonged-

"He wasn't-" Eddie continued, trying to find his words, "-He wasn't Trashmouth to me, he was always... always Richie. If that makes any sense."

There was silence for a second, like everyone was processing it. Fuck, Richie still was-

"Yeah," Stanley echoed out, soft, "-it does, Eddie."

They kept talking for a little longer, before Richie broke off to start streaming. He muted himself in the discord groupchat until they all started playing (survival, by the way). The intro and shit needed to be individual, so, they worked it out that way.

"Hey, motherfuckers," he called out, before going into like an announcer's voice, "-it's the long awaited Minecraft stream-"

dizknees: THE TITLE THO

minecrafter.on.main: fucking finally

trashy.tozier: SPAGHETTI TOO????

elite._.gamer: this is going to be so much fun !!!

geez.zee: @/sam.i.am bet u 10 bucks he blows stan's house up at least once

only-here-for-trashmouth: 🍝🍝🍝 ???

the.losers.are.better: finally some delicious fucking food

babey_boy: hey everybodyyyyy

sam.i.am: @/geez.zee deal

girls.girl: can't believe Eddie's gonna be playing, love wins

trashmouth-for-me: SCREAMING !!! EDDIE !!!

Right, the title: Minecraft w/ The Losers 2.0 (now featuring 🍝).

Richie was honestly pretty fucking proud of himself-

"Yes, chat," Richie laughed, "-my boyfriend will be joining us today, and everybody else too. Not that you fuckers seem to care."

genuine._.disappointment: is 🍝 streaming too ?

"Oh, no," Richie corrected, "-Eds, is not a streamer, he doesn't really want to be. You guys will hear him though, and probably see him a lot, because, well, you're fucking watching me-"

screamingandcrying: whipped

toziers-trash: no bc I get it I'm obsessed too

younganddumb: crying in single rn

too.tough.to.cry: #1 Eddie content creator

trashmouth-for-me: @/tozier_babeyyyy get here the clips for your comp !!!

grumpy_frog: so many wins for reddie rn

an_idiot_sandwich32: creative or survival

reddie-girlie: I have risen

babey_gurlll: so excited !!!

tellmealie34: hardcore ? jk... unless 👀

trashy.tozier: @/reddie-girlie THAT WAS SO FUCKING FAST WHAT

your._.mom: r u a builder or miner ? or fighter ?

minecraft-minecraft76: is this survival ?

toziers-trash: @/reddie-girlie @/trashy.tozier the army is rising 🫡

genuine._.disappointment: @/your._.mom he's gay hope this helps

Richie pointed out a few more chats (the game type and if it was a realm, mostly), before finally loading into the game. He waited a few seconds, messaging if everyone was ready and when they answered connecting the audio.

"You guys hear everybody okay?"

dizknees: all good 👍

Richie nodded, before turning toward the game -typical forest. He watched as faces popped into the world, each one a unique skin (except for Eddie). He should clarify that he made Stan make one, otherwise, he would've been Steve.

"Alright troops," Richie chimed, low tone (like a sargent), "-let's get that fucking wood."

Near instantly, Eddie responded -Steve turning to him (his Tony the tiger skin really was a dead giveaway), "Since when are you the fucking boss?"

genuine._.disappointment: EDDIEEEE

grumpy_frog: 🍝🍝🍝

trashy.tozier: his name is EDDIE.SPAGHETTI ??? SOBBING

babey_boy: 🍝🍝🍝

kermie_my_love: 🍝🍝🍝

trashmouth-for-me: @/trashy.tozier that's so cute 😭

the.losers.are.better: ah, Eddie how we love you

tozier_babeyyyy: clipped

maybe_maybelline45: 🍝🍝🍝

reddie-girlie: say that king 👏

"Good point," Richie relented, "-and also, chat says hi, Eds."

There was a moment.

"Hi," he responded, a little sheepishly (so fucking cute, it made Richie want to physically explode).

Richie watched as his chat blew by with both waves and 'hi's with a smile. They probably rivaled him at this point-

"Is this k-keep inventory?" Bill asked.

Richie pressed his lips together, "Yeah, there's no fucking stress in my Minecraft game, Bills."

Bill's character (one that looked like him) promptly leaped off the mountain. Richie burst into laughter within seconds.

"What the fuck-" Eddie piped up, laughing a little himself.

"Yeah, Bill," Mike continued (he was some sort of media character that Richie knew but couldn't quite name), "-What are you doing?"

"I s-saw c-coal," Bill explained, shortly, "-I knew I c-could make it."

Richie was still laughing, "You did that for coal?"

Stan, whose skin looked exactly fucking like him, was still mindlessly gathering wood -unaffected, "Why are we surprised guys? It's fucking Bill."

Bev agreed, diligently breaking grass and flowers, "Yeah, he's going to do shit like that."

"K-Keep talking," Bill scoffed, "-see who you fuckers c-come t-to for resources."

Eventually, all of them ran into a village.

"What the fuck is this?" Eddie called out, and Richie turned to see him slowly looking around the area.

"You didn't see a village in a tutorial, Spaghetti?" Richie smiled, asking curiously.

Ben clarified, quickly, "We were in creative."

"Oh," Richie hummed, before answering, "-it's a village, and those fuckers are villagers. We're basically here to steal their shit."

Eddie roamed closer to Richie, like he would protect him (Richie nearly fucking died right there), "Are they enemies?"

"Eds," Richie teased, "-are they trying to kill you right now?"

"Fuck you," Eddie bit back, most definitely flustered and frustrated, "-We're stealing their shit, I didn't know if they were gonna fucking... be mad."

"Eds," Richie smiled, teasing again (he'll admit it), "-are you afraid the villagers are going to be mad at you?"

"I will kill you."

"Sadly, PvP is turned off," Richie commented, "-but I would turn it on for you if I could."

"Shut up," Eddie was laughing, and it made something in him shimmer.

tozier_babeyyyy: this is a gold mine rn

girls.girl: new way to flirt just dropped

girlie-pops: fuck romeo and juliet I want what these bitches have

yodel-hey-he-who: 🍝🍝🍝

only-here-for-trashmouth: I'm sobbing why do I love them

trashy.tozier: @/tozier_babeyyyy ur comp is gonna HIT

shake_my_spear: no bc I'm new but I'm invested

reddie-girlie: EDDIE !!!

Richie just shook his head, smiling (he was so entirely fucked, as always), and making a crafting table.

"There," he dropped him a sword (just a stone one but it was better than fucking nothing), "-if the villagers start swinging, Eds, you're protected."

"Fuck you," Eddie responded, before adding, "-but thanks, Rich."

"Yeah, yeah-"

"BILL, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT-"

They both spun around, and Richie watched Bill get launched by the iron golem -halfway across the village. He couldn't help but fucking laugh, his friends were such fucking idiots-

"What the fuck is that?" Eddie asked -horrified, and Richie watched him roam closer again (even though he had the sword).

"I w-want his s-shit!" Bill answered, swiftly running away -the golem closely behind.

"Iron ingots?" Stan replied -incredulous, "-Just go fucking mining-"

"Don't worry, Eddie baby," Richie spoke through laughter (he was wiping his eyes, seriously), "-he's like the bodyguard for the villagers. Bill definitely fucking picked that fight."

"Oh," Eddie spoke, softer, and god, Richie loved the shit out of him.

"Now, hate to do this to you, Eds, but-" Richie chimed, pulling out his sword and chasing after Bill, "-I gotta get in on this shit."

dizknees: EDDIE BABY ???

biggurls_dontcry5: bill is insane

yoohoo789: I really feel Stan rn

trashmouth-for-me: @/dizknees 😭😭😭

grumpy_frog: that's what I expected honestly

babey_boy: bills pov must be crazyyyy

trashy.tozier: @/dizknees @/trashmouth-for-me the pet names are killing me

minecrafter.on.main: this is so fucking funny

the.losers.are.better: I literally love these streamers

Bill did, in fact, die. Richie didn't, he killed the fucker, and then refused to give Bill the iron ingots. As Richie Tozier would do.

After that, the whole group was trying to find a place to stop. They were at that point where they had too much shit to keep moving. So, eyes were peeled (even throughout the nights, which Richie neatly stayed by Eddie's side through, if you were wondering).

Personally, Richie didn't really give a fuck about where they lived. He did like to see the sick ass mountains generated with like cool peaks and shit, but he didn't have to build there. So, he was kinda lenient.

"Is this a flower field?" Eddie asked, curiously.

Everyone stopped to look ahead. And there was one, levels and levels of flowers. Richie even saw sunflowers, actually, turned toward the sun. It really was just... good, Minecraft was so feel-good sometimes-

"Yeah," Mike answered, "-sometimes they spawn. It's nice, isn't it?"

Eddie didn't say anything for a second, Steve just turned out to the flowers. Richie wished he could see him like this, what his face looked like-

"It's really fucking pretty."

Richie wasn't fucking moving an inch. He was going to throw a tantrum if they didn't set up camp here, actually. And he knew how to throw a fucking tantrum-

"I'm staying here," he expressed, flatly, "-I'm living here. My vote's for here-"

Stan spoke up then, deadpanning, "I wonder why."

"I'm dead fucking serious-"

"I like it too actually," Bev interrupted, ignoring both of them, "-It's got the flowers and a cute little creek. My vote is for here too."

Ben hummed -unsurprisingly (because obviously), "I agree, it's nice and flat too."

Mike added, "Who am I to disagree?"

"I-I just w-want to p-put down my b-bed," Bill offered, abruptly. Richie knew he probably wouldn't even spend time building a house, or maybe he was afraid of dying again.

"So your vote doesn't matter," Bev addressed, "-Stan? Eddie?"

Stan answered, after a few hesistant seconds, "Yeah, I like it."

Eddie was quiet for a second, "We don't have to do it here, guys-"

"We want to," Ben chimed back, and Richie could tell he was smiling. All warm and just Ben. Richie could feel it all the way across the country.

"Plus," Mike leveled, "-Richie isn't gonna let us go anywhere else."

"Very true," Stanley agreed -succinctly. And yeah, he really wasn't.

There was a pause.

"Well, then," Eddie sighed out, maybe flustered again, "-yeah. I like it here. A lot."

"Awesome!" Bev chimed, happily, "-Let's place down our beds, and then-"

"I don't have one," Eddie offered, maybe a little concerned.

"I've got one for you, Eds," Richie soothed -casually, "-no worries."

Eddie was soft and quiet, barely above a whisper, "Thanks."

Richie blinked, tilting his head slightly. It was a weird reaction, he noted. He didn't think it was him being nervous (or the bad kind that they talked about), but still... it was different.

"'Course, Eds," Richie laughed (I love you), "-Imma place it, just hit it once, and you'll make it your respawn point."

Eddie obediently did so.

The others were bickering, but Richie wasn't really listening. He was a little lost. It felt like Eddie was actually fucking here. Like he was standing right next to him. In a fucking Minecraft game, he felt so fucking close to him for once.

And that feeling shook through his bones.

"I'm just gonna start building my house," Bev called out, and it knocked him right out of his thoughts. He really didn't have a fucking clue about what they'd been talking about before, but-

Richie cleared his throat, just moving on autopilot (which in this case meant building a chest and putting all of his shit in said chest). It was instinctual. And helped him shake that feeling of Eddie being so fucking far-

"Can I build the house?"

Richie hummed, preoccupied, "Hmm?"

"Our house," Eddie clarified, simply, "-Can I build it?"

trashy.tozier: OUR HOUSE

minecrafter.on.main: no bc I came here for Minecraft why am I crying

babey_gurlll: it's not love if they don't build you a joint Minecraft house

only-here-for-trashmouth: @/trashy.tozier 😭😭😭

ghoulie_girlie69: 🍝🍝🍝

toziers-trash: this is so sweet

younganddumb: is this even a trashmouth stream rn ??? or is it a coming-of-age romcom ???

babey_boy: this is so gay where's the gay shit guy

grumpy_frog: 🍝🍝🍝

shake_my_spear: this feels like I'm watching a movie

Richie processed that for a second. Taking it in. He blinked once and just stared at his screen -he'd said it so casually. It shot through his heart.

Our house.

"Yeah, of course," he finally said, laughing a little, "-I would've just made a fucking dirt fort anyway."

"Ew," Eddie frowned (Richie could almost see the shrivel of his nose).

"If you, um," Richie pressed his lips together, maybe a little awkwardly, "-If you need any supplies, tell me, and I'm fucking on it."

Eddie waited a second, like he was thinking, "Could you get me some flowers? It's kinda fucking plain as shit over here."

Fuck, Richie would get them all. For him. For Eddie. God. I love him, I love you, I love you-

"Aye, aye, captain!" Richie chimed instead, saluting (even though Eddie could not see it).

"Stop fucking saluting," Eddie chastised, "-I know you're doing it. It's such a stupid bit-"

Richie laughed -decidedly still saluting, "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Did you do it again?" Eddie asked, accusingly. Like he could see him straight through the screen. Like he knew him so well, and he fucking did-

"Maybe."

Eddie let out something between a sigh and a laugh (or a hidden laugh, he definitely tried to hide it), "You're an idiot."

Richie grinned, a big wide cheesy grin like it was just the two of them. Like he was right fucking in front of him. Like Eddie was there, and he wasn't-

Fuck. He was so fucking far away-

Stan interrupted the thought, "Hey, Rich, do have any extra sticks? I wanna build a fishing rod and get away from all that shit."

Richie looked toward Bev's rough shape of a house. It was only just started, but her and Ben seemed to be working together on it. Maybe they were taking a break? And Bill wasn't anywhere to be seen, he assumed he'd gone into a nearby ravine (that Richie had almost fallen into and died like three fucking times).

"Awe, Stanthony doesn't want to be a third wheel?" Richie cooed, patronizingly.

"For you or them," Stan clarified, before reiterating, "-Sticks?"

"I get 50% of the good loot," Richie remarked, throwing some out of his inventory, "-which I know you fucking get from enough fishing."

"25%," Stan stated like it wasn't even a debate, "-because you could fucking fish yourself."

"Fine," Richie conceded.

"Yeah, thanks," Stanley commented passively, before going towards the nearest water source.

When he turned around, he didn't expect his one chest to triple. But it had.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, watching as Eddie (Steve really) went through the line -opening each one for a moment and then moving down. He pressed his lips together and tilted his head.

"Uh," Richie tried, "-Eds?"

"Yeah?" Eddie replied, unmoving in his cycle.

"What-" Richie started, staring, "-What are you doing?"

"Sorting the chests," Eddie responded -frankly, "-fucking obviously."

Richie hummed, "You know you're gonna have to pick all that shit back up to put it into the house, right?"

"No," Eddie retorted, plainly, "-you're gonna have to pick all this shit up and put it in the house. And then, I'll organize it again."

"Eddie baby, I will do that for you, don't get me wrong, but-" Richie pointed out, "-that's still double the work for you."

Eddie didn't flinch, not even looking up, "I don't mind."

Richie pursed his lips before shrugging, and retorting -flat and nasally, "Yes, dear."

"Haha, hilarious-" Eddie mocked, still busy, "-Didn't I ask for fucking flowers, dickweed?"

Richie repeated, even more nasally (it was almost Squidward), "Yes, dear."

"You're such a-"

The rest of the stream was much calmer, just slow little builds. Richie did eventually join Bill in the mines, where they had quite a harrowing adventure. Including landing in one block of water, fighting six skeletons at once, uncovering a mob spawn, and finding the fucking WARDEN (which Richie did not know about until Bill saw it)-

That did, in fact, kill them. But Richie went back to a finished house, perfectly organized chests, and well... Eddie, so, he counts it as a win.

benny.boy.official ✔️
that was really fun, guys !!!

mike.me.up ✔️
yeah, I miss our group streams

reddy.bevvy ✔️
we def have to do more

big.bill ✔️
Yeah, pretty sure this kick-started my yearly Minecraft phase.

Richie was about to type out a message, when he got another notification.

e.kaspbrak
Hey, Rich.

Can we talk in this chat?

Richie frowned for a second.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah of course eds

why ?

everything okay ?

Richie stared at the bubbles for a few more seconds, watching as they typed and retyped. Until, they just disappeared. He frowned again, ready to follow up-

e.kaspbrak is calling

He flinched at the noise, taking a second. What the fuck is happening? Even still, he clicked answer -unhesitatingly.

Before he could even open his mouth, Eddie was talking.

"You should come get me next week."

Richie blinked, "What?"

"Come get me next week, Thursday," Eddie clarified like it would make more sense when he repeated it.

"Eds," he laughed, "-you have like two weeks left of the month-"

"I know what I said, dipshit," Eddie replied -biting back, "-Things change and they fucking have."

Richie felt like the words were lodged in his throat.

"Do you not-" Eddie started up, hesitantly, "-Do you not want me there earlier? Or-"

"Eds, I would bring you here right now if I could," Richie explained, instantly (Eddie was not thinking that for one more fucking second), "-I would get into my car at 3 am if you wanted me to-"

Eddie interrupted, bitterly (in a caring kinda way), "You are not fucking doing that."

"-I just don't want you to fucking... regret it."

"Regret what?" Eddie asked, genuinely.

"I don't know-" Richie started, "-moving in with me, not waiting the full month, fucking anything, Eds. I don't know if I... I don't know if I could handle you regretting a single fucking thing."

Eddie was silent for a second. And it made Richie debate the biting his nails habit again. They were actually pretty healthy, so he thought might've really fucked them up-

"Richie," he began, carefully, "-that stupid fucking game made me realize... that I was just wasting fucking time."

Richie fell silent. For once.

"I don't-" Eddie cleared his throat, "-I don't wanna be in New York anymore. I wanna fucking be with you. So fucking badly that sometimes it physically hurts."

Something curled up in his chest, and Richie felt a little like crying. The good kind, he should say.

"And I know that I just fucking said a month, but it's just-" Eddie let out a long sigh, "-That stupid game, you were right fucking there. And I want you right fucking there all the time."

God, he was fucking crying. Maybe he'd even get to ugly crying if Eddie kept this shit up.

"When the fuck have I done the shit that I want?" Eddie echoed out, "-Ever? So I'm gonna fucking do it. You're gonna show up at my doorstep whether you fucking like it or not-"

Richie laughed and it was a little teary. God, I fucking love him. So much.

"-and I'm going to San Francisco. Because this shit sucks, and I wanna be there. With you, and your dumb fucking jokes, and your fucking shitty ass shirts, and your crooked as fuck smile, and your... just... just everything."

Yeah, okay, here comes the ugly crying.

"Fuck, Eds," Richie laughed, sniffling, "-you can't just pull all that shit out on me again. Last time you did I fucking confessed my love for you. What the fuck am I supposed to do now-"

"Come and fucking get me," Eddie replied simply.

"Yeah, okay," Richie breathed out, shaky, "-Thursday."

"I changed my fucking mind," Eddie erupted again, somehow sharp and happy (Eddie did that a lot), "-come tomorrow. Start your trip tomorrow."

"What the fuck?" Richie laughed, fucking elated (had he ever been elated in his fucking life?), "-Tomorrow?"

"Yes," Eddie affirmed, "-I'm already gonna have to wait like 5 days for you to fucking get here. So tomorrow."

"Shit, okay, yeah," Richie grinned, "-tomorrow. I gotta do so much shit-"

"Let me guess, you haven't even thought about packing?" Eddie chastised.

"Eds, I had weeks," Richie countered, "-Why would I pack fucking weeks in advance?"

"I have," Eddie offered.

"Spaghetti, I love you, I do," Richie chimed, "-but you're a little freak of nature."

"I am average fucking height, dickweed-"

"Not in America," Richie contradicted, in a sort of sing-songy tone, "-Also fucking love that you're only arguing the little part."

"I fully acknowledge that I'm a freak," Eddie explained, "-because you love me and you know that. So, it's pretty fucking irrelevant at this point."

"Is that all that matters?" Richie laughed.

"Yeah," Eddie answered (like it was obvious), "-you've already said that you're gonna take care of me. And that fucking includes the freakiness. Nothing else matters."

Just you and me, Richie's mind hummed -calm and quiet, Just you and me.

"Yeah, Eds," Richie agreed, grinning, "-nothing else matters."

Chapter Text

"What?" Stanley asked -blankly.

"I'm going to start my trip to Eds in a few hours," Richie repeated, "-like maybe one actually, what time is it?"

"For you? 9:30," Stan continued, confused, "-Didn't he say a month?"

"Shit, 30 minutes," Richie huffed out, rushing over to his bag and checking his shit -before running out the door and turning the key, "-Yeah, he did. He just... He got sick and tired of not being here, with me, and I'm not gonna say fucking no to that."

"You'd never say no to Eddie in any circumstances," Stan leveled, "-be honest."

"Yeah, okay, fair point," Richie agreed, more than walking down the staircase (hopefully not enough to fall).

"What about your streams?" He followed up with, carefully.

"Told them I would miss this week's, at the very least, and keep them updated otherwise," Richie answered, pushing out the door to the surprisingly sunny day. He didn't really absorb it though, slipping into the parking lot and then his car.

"So, on a limb," Stanley gathered, slowly, "-you're going to, unprepared mind you, travel through 10 states?"

Richie put his phone into the holder, switching it to speaker and throwing his bag into backseat, "Is it 10?"

"Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania," Stanley listed, "-not counting California and New York."

"Huh," Richie spoke, grabbing his snack bag and throwing it into his passenger seat, "-Don't worry Stanthony, Eddie won't let me push any limits on taking care of myself. He made me send my location to his phone-"

"Smart," he commented.

"-Both so he could track me and keep an eye on my stops and shit."

"That's what-" Stan seemed to pause, thinking, "-realistically, 6 days?"

"Yeah, I found this article that tells me like where to go and where to stop, and-" Richie pressed his lips together, trying to remember -buckling, "-I'm pretty sure it said 6. Or maybe 5."

"Bev knows about this right?" He asked.

"Yeah," Richie answered, seamlessly, and slowly backing up, "-she got me up at the fucking crack of dawn to get ready."

"And yet, you were still almost late," Stanley commented, "-Figures."

"Only because I wanted to call you," Richie pointed out, pulling forward and onto the road -his phone chimed about going straight. Richie did so.

"You could've done that earlier this morning, Rich," he refuted.

"No," Richie contradicted, "-Bev took my phone away. Made me get all my shit together."

Stan questioned further, "Did you even fill up on gas?"

"Bev did, this morning," Richie explained, "-made me pack while she took care of car shit."

"Car shit?"

"She cleaned it out," he clarified, "-for Eds, and also grabbed me a shit ton of snacks, a cooler-"

"Ah," Stan hummed in recognition, "-I see. You'll still probably need to stop to eat. Snacks only get you so far, Rich."

"Yeah, yeah, save the speech, Stanny," Richie rolled his eyes, "-I've got it from both Eds and Bev today. I get it."

"Just saying," he added, calmly, "-Patty says be safe."

"Tell her I will," Richie responded, instinctively, "-and that I love her very dearly."

"Love you too, honey," Patty called out, distantly, "-if you have any car troubles, call us, okay? We'll figure it out."

They really were like his makeshift parents. Fuck, Richie loved them so much.

"Thanks Patts," Richie chimed, smiling big and wide.

"I gotta go, Rich," Stanley sighed out, "-We're going out for breakfast, but keep me updated. Actually, send me your location too."

"I will when I physically can, Stan," he hummed, noting the rhyme in his head.

"Don't be stupid," Stan finished, succinctly.

"No promises," Richie joked back, before responding seriously, "-Yeah, yeah, I get it. Go on your date, woo her beyond belief-"

"Shut up," he responded -flatly, "-Bye, Rich."

"Bye~" Richie smiled, stressing it out until he heard the dial tone.

He let out a big huff of breath, staring at the medium level of traffic -it would be better when he got on the interstate. He knew that. He just fucking hated being slow-

He fidgeted with a wrapper between his fingers (antsy) and tried to memorize the license plate in front of him. Maybe he could play that game where you try and find a license plate from every state-

His phone started ringing, loud through his speakers. He flinched so hard that he knocked his glasses askew.

"Fuck," he blinked, before eyeing the ID (💞 Eds💞) and moving his finger to answer.

"Hey Eddie baby," he called, smiling (I'm going to get him, he's gonna be here).

"Are you already driving?" Eddie questioned, and Richie took note to turn down his radio. (He thinks he was listening to The Climb by Miley Cyrus and feeling it a little too hard the last time he drove.)

"Yes sir," Richie chimed, "-right on schedule."

Eddie was following up before he could add anything else, "How much did you sleep last night? I know Bev got you up early-"

"Eds," Richie soothed, laughing a little, "-I'm fine, don't worry. I slept good. And I promise, if I'm getting tired, I'll hit the nearest rest stop."

"And you've got food?" He continued on his brigade. It was okay though, he knew it would make Eddie feel better in the long run.

"Yep," he popped the 'p', "-Bevvy got 'em, so I got half healthy and half the good shit. And before you ask, I have a cooler full of water too."

"Good," Eddie breathed out, it wracked through his chest and Richie noted that he sounded a little more relaxed. Good.

"How's everything going over there?" Richie asked -curiously.

"Just packing," Eddie explained, "-My landlord's a piece of shit, per usual."

Richie frowned, "What did he do?"

"Found out I was leaving early," Eddie sighed, "-I think my next-door neighbor, Meredith, snitched. I have no fucking clue how she knew, but I'm pretty sure it was her. He basically wanted to rent it out, after I was gone, even though I'd already paid for everything."

"Shit," Richie cursed, "-Did you figure something out?"

"Just threatened him with a legal charge," Eddie answered, casually, "-He decided to give me a refund then."

"Awe, Eds," Richie laughed, "-my little shit."

"He was breaking the contract, asshole," he bit back, cheeks most definitely puffed up, "-It was a perfectly viable option. The fucking idiot should've known that."

"Doesn't mean you're not a little shit, Spaghetti," Richie reasoned, mindlessly listening to the directions (in 2 miles, turn left onto I-40), "-but I love you for it, so."

Eddie was quiet for a second, and it rattled through his chest. Not really nervous, but kinda just settling along his skin. It was only a little weird saying that to Eddie, openly, and maybe even more so that he wasn't saying it back. He didn't want to rush him or anything, Richie just acknowledged that it felt strange without reciprocation. And maybe it was a little scary. But he wasn't going to push him, he loved him and maybe he wasn't ready and that was okay. Yeah.

"Does that mean there's shit you don't love me for?"

"Uh," Richie laughed a little, humming thoughtfully, "-not that I can think of."

Eddie countered, "No fucking way. Gimme something."

"Eds," Richie fully laughed then, "-I'm so fucking serious. I don't know if I can."

"Yeah, right," Eddie snorted, disbelieving.

"Spaghetti," Richie leveled, "-I'm in fucking love with you. All of you. In your feral gremlin glory-"

"Fuck you," Eddie hissed back.

"Eds, you can't say you're not a feral gremlin," Richie offered, laughing, "-You're like a lil chihuahua that bites everyone who tries to touch it."

Eddie paused for a second, "I wouldn't bite you, dickweed."

Richie smiled, "As sweet as that is, Eddie baby, you have. And you probably will in the next few minutes actually-"

"Not really," Eddie disagreed, "-I don't really fucking mean it. Other people I would definitely fucking bite."

"I like that you agree with my analogy," Richie commented, "-I know my Eds."

"Stop deflecting, moron," Eddie chastised, "-You know I don't mean it, right? Well, sometimes you are a fuckface, but-"

Richie laughed, staring out a the road ahead of him -he expected California to fade out eventually. And then, it might be a little scary. But a new adventure kinda scary. With Eddie at the end. Yeah, he could handle a little scary with that prize at the finish line.

"-I don’t, always, mean it. You're my fucking boyfriend, I'm moving in with you. Obviously, I like the shit out of you."

Like, his mind chimed and Richie shoved it far, far away. It's okay, really, he can wait-

"Yeah, I know, Eds," Richie smiled, wistfully (just a few days), "-You tell me that shit a lot."

"Well," Eddie's face screwed up in frustration (Richie could really just tell), "-you deserve to fucking hear it, so. Suck it up."

Richie laughed again. Oh, Eds, Eds, Eds. I really fucking love you.

"You have anything to do today?" Richie questioned, always so curious about what Eddie was doing. Especially when they were apart. He wanted to feel like he was there, like he'd run out for groceries and left him a note, like he'd detoured into some boujee clothing store and picked him out something. Like he was right there.

"You know I don't do shit," Eddie bit back, passively.

"You do shit," Richie disagreed, "-you run, and you watch shitty trashy TV that you'll never fucking admit to-"

"I swear to fucking god, Rich," Eddie huffed out a breath, "-I do not."

"Eddie baby, I know the sound of TLC when I hear it," Richie countered, grinning.

Eddie paused for a second, cheeks puffed up (Richie could visually see it in his mind), "It's just what's on-"

Richie laughed again, "Eds, it's a streaming service, not fucking cable."

"Okay, fine, yeah," Eddie exhaled a breath, biting, "-I'm fucking hooked on your shitty shows. Happy now?"

"Fucking elated," Richie chimed back.

Eddie laughed then, and Richie wanted to commit the sound to memory (like he always did), "You are such an asshole."

"Yeah, yeah, Spaghetti, I know the drill-" Richie let his last few chuckles out, radiating through his chest, "-but seriously, you doing anything fun today?"

"No," Eddie answered -frankly, "-I can't do shit right now."

Richie tilted his head curiously, passing over into another lane, "Why not?"

"Because you're fucking coming to get me."

"Eds," Richie laughed, "-it's gonna take like 6 days for me to get there, ya have time, trust me-"

"It's not that, dickweed," Eddie interrupted, starting in, "-I can't fucking focus on shit. At all. Because you're finally coming to get me. And I'm going back with you, getting out of this fucking shithole with you-"

Richie was grinning, fingers tapping along his wheel. God.

"-You're gonna be fucking tangible, right in front of me. And I can't stop thinking about that shit, so anything else is irrelevant. I'm putting all my focus on the important shit-"

"Awe," Richie cooed, "-Eds thinks I'm important."

"Of fucking course, you're important," Eddie retorted -a little bitterly, "-What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Richie faltered a second, laughing a little, "Eds, I was just joking."

"Yeah, joke about it," Eddie relented, "-but you have to know that you're the most important fucking person in my life. So."

"Most important?" Richie asked, blankly.

"Um," Eddie paused, awkwardly, "-yeah, Rich. You're you, and that's kinda all I fucking care about."

Richie pressed his lips together, blinking.

"Really? Top spot, number 1?"

"Richie, I just fucking said it," Eddie stated -bluntly.

"It's just-" Richie drummed his fingers along his steering wheel, staring at the car in front of him (oddly a bright orange van), "-that's... you're... I don't think I've ever been someone's most important person."

"Well," Eddie blew out a breath, "-you're mine. Fucking obviously."

"Well," Richie swallowed, blinking blearily, "-thank you, Eds. I don't... I've never..."

"Are you crying?"

"That's not my fault," Richie sniffed, laughing a little, "-you said I was the most important person to you. That's fucking... I don't know, it taps into some internal trauma or some shit-"

"Richie, I'm not making fun of you," Eddie spoke, softer.

"-and I guess I just... With my boyfriends and my parents, I wasn't... I was second best, ya know, but you... you're... I'm your most important fucking person. And it means like a lot to me."

Eddie was silent for a moment, like he wanted to say something but he couldn't. Richie didn't know how he knew that, but he was pretty fluent in Eddie-isms now. So, he could just... tell.

Richie gnawed at his lips for a moment, inhaling a breath -it was shaky, "You're my most important person too, Eds."

There was another pause, a breath. It made Richie let out a big exhale, my favorite and most important person. Shit. He was so done for. Eddie might be the love of his fucking life-

"Hurry up and fucking get here dickwad."

"Ya want me to speed, Eds," Richie laughed out, "-I'll speed. You say the word-"

"If you fucking die on the way to come and get me," Eddie hissed, "-I'll kill you."

Richie grinned, and responded flatly (very nasally, per usual), "Yes, dear."

"I can't fucking stand you," Eddie huffed out, "-You're such an asshole-"

The rest of the drive was the same, Eddie stayed on the phone the whole time and Richie was ecstatic about it. They bickered back and forth, and Richie told him he loved him probably 10 times (like he couldn't help it). And Eddie kind of strangely got quiet after, the same sort of feeling. It made Richie just a twinge nervous, but he knew Eddie really liked and cared about him so it must've been something good. Or something okay at least.

He was stressed (anxious really), but he'd try and talk to Eddie about it later. Not now.

Eventually, after harassment from Eddie (he did stay on the phone the entire time, "I like spending time with you, asshat."), Richie pulled off into a... moderate hotel. Eddie wouldn't let him go anywhere cheap, rambling about sicknesses and health codes and bed bugs, the usual shit. He listened, diligently, and maybe with a big ass grin on his face, because he, well... he loved the shit out of Eddie. And when Eddie was Eddie, he just fucking loved it.

That brought him to now, a therapy call.

It was planned to be at yesterday, he should note, but Steve had called him while he was driving, and requested to schedule it for later. Richie guessed so as to not endanger him, sorting out your feelings while on the interstate sounded like a fucking nightmare, so he agreed wholeheartedly. Not to mention Eddie would have completely lost his shit if he'd insisted on driving through it, and Richie frankly did not want Eddie to lose his shit. Not when Richie couldn't properly be there.

"So," Steve echoed out carefully, "-your new boyfriend, Eddie, who we have discussed previously, has said, three months, then a month, and then tomorrow. And now, you're currently on a 6-day, unplanned, road trip to get him?"

"Technically 5-day now, but yeah," Richie answered, before asking jokingly (they'd talked a little bit about his nervous habit of being a shithead when things got too serious. Steve probably expected it), "-So, am I a lunatic, doc?"

"Not necessarily," Steve added, gently, "-it just sounds like you really care about him. Have you considered the fact that you might... love him, Richie?"

"About that," he laughed, fidgeting with his hair and eyeing the early morning sun creeping through the window (it was maybe 7:30), "-I do, and I told him that."

There was a lingering pause, maybe based on Richie's tone.

"But?"

"He's not," Richie breathed out, "-He's not saying it back. And I get that he might need time, I do, and I shouldn't expect him to do anything-"

"Richie, you're going to do that naturally," Steve amended, pointedly, "-Your past relationships have made you susceptible to anxiety on whether or not they truly cared about you. Loved you, even. This relationship has the same effect, even though you do somewhat know that Eddie cares about you deeply. So, don't put this negative perspective on yourself with the way you're wired to react. It only serves to impact your own self-worth, and put something on you that you can't quite help at this point."

Richie pressed his lips together.

"Instead," he continued, "-let's discuss your expression. Have you told Eddie that you're having this reaction? That it's bothering you?"

"No," Richie answered, quietly, "-I don't want him to feel guilty and just... fucking say it because it would make me feel better."

"Do you think Eddie would do that?" Steve questioned.

And Richie thought about it then. Really fucking thought about it.

'There's nothing wrong with you Rich.'

'And then I did it to you, the person I think I care about the most in the world-'

'But, you're not too much. At least not to me.'

'And stop fucking talking about yourself like that, you're one of fucking kind, Rich. I have never met a person like you, and that makes you fucking special.'

'And before your brain starts shit, I like the fuck out of you.'

'Because I actually want to fucking take care of you and your stupid brain.'

'I just care about you. And personally, that's all that matters to me.'

'Yeah, joke about it, but you have to know that you're the most important fucking person in my life.'

Richie felt tears burn the backs of his eyes, sob crawling up his throat. Eddie wouldn't do that. Ever. God.

"No," he answered, succinctly.

"So, communicate that with him!" Steve continued, "-If Eddie cares as deeply about you as you say he does, I imagine he'd want to soothe you over something like this."

Richie threw himself back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Something in his chest was lighter. Yeah, his mind echoed, he really fucking would.

"It doesn't help to question things yourself," Steve added, "-All that will come of that is negativity. You know that."

He did.

Richie let out a long breath, "Yeah, okay, doc. I'll ask him."

"Good," he affirmed, "-I'm going to schedule your next appointment fairly soon, after you get Eddie most likely. I want to see how you're doing with that. 5 days, yes?"

"Yeah," Richie replied.

"But if you need anything, you-"

"Call you," Richie finished, instinctively, "-I know."

"Okay, Richie," Steve chimed, lighter, "-I'll talk to you again in a few days. Stay safe."

"Will do, doc," he replied, laughing a little, "-will do."

Richie was supposed to leave at 10, so he had some time. And he kinda wanted to alleviate the nerves, so. He took it upon himself to listen to Steve, and ask.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
hey eds

can I ask u something?

The response was nearly instant, Eddie was probably wide awake right now (it was 10 in the morning). So, it made sense.

e.kaspbrak

Of course, Rich.

What's up?

Richie stared at it for a second, anxiety making his skin prickly. He wanted to either fidget with something, hide under his blankets for a few hours, or rub his arms until they didn't feel like that anymore. After a few breaths, he steeled. You can do this, Tozier.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
don't take this as rushing u or anything

but Steve told me to ask

to soothe my worries or some shit

e.kaspbrak
You're kind of freaking me out, Richie.

He took a deep breath in.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
why haven't u told me u love me yet ?

There was a pause. And Richie watched as the bubble continued in the bottom of his screen, for a little too long than expected. Well, maybe he should've expected it, actually. That was a pretty loaded question.

His phone started vibrating in his hands.

e.kaspbrak is calling

Richie blinked once, quickly answering. Before he could even get out a greeting, Eddie started talking.

"Richie?"

"Heya, Eds," Richie breathed out, a little nervous. He was busying his hands, packing the stuff he pulled out for the night (dispelling anxious energy probably).

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Eddie near immediately followed up, and Richie could tell he was worried.

"Really not long, Eds," he replied, gathering his bag in his arms and grabbing his room key (it was 9:45, and Richie was supposed to leave around 10 every day), "-I promise."

Eddie paused, tone careful, "Is it... Do you think you're not lovable? Is that... Is that what's happening?"

Richie sighed out, mouthing thank you to the front desk lady and dropping the key into her hand, "Steve basically said that it was natural, because my whole life I've been fucking... you know. And just not... given, you know, affection and shit, so I... Yeah, I guess so."

Eddie huffed out and whispered something to himself that Richie couldn't catch ("This is so fucking-"), "Richie, you're so fucking lovable, it drives me insane."

Richie laughed a little, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your fucking stupid jokes, and your snorty ass laugh, and your stupidly frizzy curls that you seriously need to take care of-" Eddie listed off (like he was genuinely pissed), "-and you're charming as fuck. God."

"Um," Richie pursed his lips, blush splotchy against his skin -throwing his bag into the back, "-thank you? I think?"

"Yes, yeah," Eddie clarified, huffing out a breath, "-It's a fucking compliment."

"Okay," Richie smiled a little, "-Well, then, thanks, Eds."

"And I just," Eddie spoke, cutting himself off, "-There's nothing wrong with you, Richie, you're-"

He paused, a moment of silence. Maybe trying to figure out his words, or what he wanted to say.

"-fucking amazing. It's just... God, fuck. I have this whole... Ugh-"

Richie started up the car (hooking it up to his radio), furrowing his brow but still smiling, "Eddie baby, you're not making a lot of sense."

Eddie groaned, and he had never felt more confused in his life. What the fuck is happening?

"Eds," Richie started, gently -worried now, and slowly backing out, "-is everything okay?"

"I wanted-" Eddie huffed out a breath, "-I wanted to... But, it's just so fucking hard-"

"Eds," Richie leveled, "-seriously. You're freaking me out."

"God," Eddie sighed, like he was really fucking reluctant, "-okay."

Richie just waited patiently, pulling out onto the road. He really wasn't sure what to do about it, or how to respond at all. Eddie wasn't really being the clearest, despite Richie knowing the Eddie-isms at this point.

"I want to say it in person."

Richie blinked, "What?"

"It's-" Eddie exhaled a breath, "-I haven't said it yet because I want to say it in person."

Richie pressed his lips together, blinking again, "Oh."

"But," Eddie continued, more frustrated, "-you're making it so fucking hard, asshole."

Richie blinked again, squeaking out, "What?"

"You heard me, dipshit," Eddie added, "-You keep fucking saying that you love me, and then you're you-"

"Eddie baby," Richie laughed, "-I can't just fucking stop being me."

"-and I just fucking... God."

Richie was definitely giggling now, driving down the road with a big ass grin. He felt a little like he was floating, up and out of the car through the fucking clouds-

"I'm gonna stick to my word," Eddie exhaled, "-and I'm not gonna... I'm not gonna fucking say it until you're here, but-"

Richie felt his heart leap into his chest.

"-I do. Richie, I do. So fucking much."

Richie smiled, eyes a little teary as he stared out onto the pavement. So fucking much.

"I love you so fucking much, Eds," he laughed out, still crying, "-Too fucking much, probably."

"I think just enough," Eddie grinned (Richie could fucking hear it), "-We can both be batshit crazy about each other. I think that's fair."

"Yeah?" Richie smiled, fingers tapping along the wheel (he was so fucking happy).

"What?" Eddie asked, playfully, "-You're not fucking batshit crazy about me?"

"Oh, Eds," Richie snorted, "-You have no fucking idea."

There was a pause for a second, and Richie waited -smiling. God, he fucking-

"I think I do, Rich," Eddie responded, fondly (fucking affectionately even), "-I think I do."

Chapter Text

Richie was kinda sick of the road.

It was the fourth morning, and he thought he was in Oklahoma. Maybe.

The state sign was a few hours back, and Richie's mind was kinda melting. Just interstate, miles and miles of roads and cars, and luckily, changing trees and skies. Otherwise, his brain was definitely on low power mode: not tired, but in a mental capacity kinda way.

Eddie was doing something, or so he assumed. So currently, he was listening to music to try and keep him sane.

"Can I call you Rose?" Richie muttered along, switching lanes (his exit was coming up), "-'Cause your fragrance takes over the room."

🎵 Can I call you Rose?🎵

"Darling~" Richie got more into it, tapping along the steering wheel, "-I wanna-"

A chime echoed through the speakers, cutting off the music. Richie blinked, turning to his phone: e.kaspbrak is trying to videochat.

Quickly, Richie adjusted the angle to face him more, and answered.

"Hiya, Eds," he spoke, in a cliché New Yorker accent, "-What can I do for ya?"

He flicked his eyes to the camera and caught Eddie setting his phone up and stepping back -holding up two shirts. He looked like he was in a store, one where no one would mind if he took up a little space.

The traffic halted in place, and Richie would normally be pissed but he had Eddie now. So, he was completely fine with it. Grateful even.

"Which one's better?" Eddie asked, holding up one and then the other, "The blue or the pink?"

Richie's eyes lingered on the phone for maybe a second too long, because-

"Look at the road, fuckface," Eddie chastised.

"Traffic is completely stopped, Eddie baby," Richie soothed, nearly immediately, "-I am perfectly safe. Plus, how am I supposed to help if I can't look?"

Eddie's lips pressed into a thin frown.

Richie took the moment to skim over Eddie, he was dressed like he was on a run (he assumed he was). Wearing a red tanktop and running shorts, Richie couldn't decide if it was hot or cute. Eddie was a mixture of both in his mind, honestly. And then his eyes flicked to the shirts, simple ones, one tanktop with a graphic on it (Kirby, Richie thinks), and the other a simple baby blue t-shirt with a white collar and sleeve cuffs.

"Whichever you want, Eds," Richie spoke, passively, "-They're both good."

Eddie frowned again, pushing them forward further, "I asked you, dipshit. I want your opinion. Which one?"

Richie pursed his lips, eyes dashing to the road (still stagnant), before snapping back over to the phone. He really looked at the two of them, really fucking looking. Because that's what Eddie wanted, and Richie wanted to do what Eddie wanted for the rest of his life, probably. Taking a minute, he imagined Eddie in each one individually. He could picture Eddie pretty clearly now, honestly; he felt like he knew him like the back of his hand.

Blue with white collar, Richie's mind tsked, graphic pink tanktop.

"Blue," he answered succinctly (Eddie nodded and put the pink tanktop out of frame), and asked, curiously, "-and why exactly did you need my opinion, Eds?"

Eddie picked up his phone, as Richie looked forward and watched the cars begin to move -he shifted all of his focus. Eyeing the exit he needed to get off on, Richie waited patiently for Eddie's response.

"You're my boyfriend, dipshit," Eddie remarked, "-I want you to like how I fucking look."

"Eds, you could wear a neon jumpsuit that was so bright it burnt my fucking corneas," Richie laughed, pulling off onto the new road (GPS said something about turning left so he did), "-and I would still love the shit out of you."

"I didn't say you wouldn't love me," Eddie clarified, pointedly, "-I said that I wanted you to like how I look. I know you fucking love me, but that doesn't mean I can't like... fucking please your tastes or some shit."

"Awe," Richie cooed, "-Eds wants to please my tastes-"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole, you know what I mean-" Eddie huffed out, exasperated, "-Like I like your hair this length. If you cut it short, I'd fucking kill you."

"You like my hair?" Richie laughed, "-The monster that just fucking sits on my head? The shit I don't even try to take care of? The-"

"Yes," Eddie interrupted, "-I fucking love your curls. Even though you don't give a shit about them, I will. I'll figure that shit out, and take care of them. Because you're never getting fucking rid of them, ever."

I want you to be here to stop me, forever. God, I would do fucking anything-

"Salon Eds," Richie chimed, in an infomercial sort of way, "-where you don't give a fuck, but he does."

"That's not... Whatever, the point is-" Eddie continued, "-I want to hear your opinion, just like you want to hear mine."

"I don't even have a fucking opinion on myself, Eddie baby," Richie laughed out, winking exaggeratively, "-I am completely moldable. In more than one way too, if you know what I'm saying-"

"Shut up," Eddie laughed out, and Richie wished he could look. God, he fucking loved him, "-You're such an asshole."

The rest of the ride was a lot of the same, just bickering and Eddie stayed on the entire time. Or well, did his best to. Richie could tell when he was getting tired, he got really fucking giggly (at least with Richie) and couldn't properly focus. So, when he noticed it, he'd send Eddie off to bed, refusing to entertain shit ("Someone wise once told me that not sleeping fucks with your brain function, Eds.") until he heard Eddie's little tiny snores -so quiet you wouldn't even catch it in person, probably. Richie somehow hoped he could.

Eddie had just fallen asleep (he was only an hour ahead of him at this point), and Richie was picking at his fingernails. His phone laid along the mattress, somewhere near his left hand. He just fidgeted and stared at the ceiling -thinking.

This was a big fucking deal, and the last time Richie made a big fucking deal in a relationship, his heart ended up splattered on the fucking sidewalk. It wasn't that he didn't trust Eddie, he did but it's just... It's a different wheelhouse to be with Richie all the time, not just in the moderation Eddie had.

Steve would probably say the same thing about this shit, that it's how he's wired and they're trying to change it but it's okay if it still seeps out sometimes. Because yeah, Richie was working on it, but he still felt... like shit.

He believed that Eddie really fucking liked who he was (loved it actually, indirectly said but still). He really fucking did. But that doesn't mean he, himself, does. And Eddie was fucking helping, constantly reassuring him and saying the shit that Richie just needed to hear. He really didn't know how Eddie did it, but he did. But still, this shit in him was rooted deep. Probably as soon as his fucking sister was born-

Ding.

benny.boy.official ✔️
hope you're having fun rich !!!

send pictures with Eddie when you get there ☺️

Richie stared at the message for a second.

Ben. Sweet, grounding, kind, Ben. Ben who would do everything in his power to believe the good in somebody, even if everything they fucking did was bad. And it wasn't even like he was naive, he just... he just believed the shit out of it.

Richie clicked call before he second guess it.

"Hi, Richie!" He chimed, soft and warm (always was), "-How's the trip going? 2 more days, right?"

"Heya, Benny," he smiled back, naturally relaxing at the sound of him, "-and yeah, tomorrow is the start of the fifth day. Only one more after that, and then I finally fucking get Eds."

"I know!" Ben grinned, and Richie heard the murmur of maybe a movie in the background, "-I'm so happy for you two. It's amazing, really, Eddie's so excited, I can tell."

"Yeah?" Richie asked, genuinely.

"Oh yeah," Ben reassured, "-We went to get coffee this morning and I've never seen him smile so much, Rich."

Richie's heart flipped in his chest (he hoped it never stopped doing that), and he grinned so brightly that it hurt. If he was on his stomach he might've been kicking his feet. Fuck, he really loved him. He hoped with everything in him that Eddie wouldn't get sick of him physically, god, please-

"Ben," he spoke, "-can I ask you a question?"

"'Course, Richie," he answered, maybe a little concerned, "-what's up?"

"Is... Do you think-" Richie started before exhaling a breath, "-Do you think I should be worried?"

"About what?" Ben asked, curiously.

"Well, um, everything," Richie laughed a little, nervous, "-I don't... There's no hesitation in my body about Eddie, seriously, not a fucking shred. But... What if it's different for him?"

Ben questioned further, "What do you mean?"

"What if Eddie's... not sure? Or-" Richie scrambled, "-what if he meets me in person and I... I scare him away? It's one thing to text and call me but to constantly be around me? I don't-"

"Richie, breathe," Ben interrupted, calmly.

Richie obediently did so. A long breath echoed out of his lungs, and his heart slowed.

"Okay, now," Ben began, gently, "-has Eddie ever told you that he's not sure? Or that he's hesitant?"

Richie pressed his lips together, "Well, no, but-"

"Rich, Eddie would tell you stuff like that," Ben cut him off, "-He's very straightforward, you know that."

Richie sighed, "Okay, yeah, so he's not hesitating. But... whose to say it won't be too much for him? All my shit."

"Richie, he's dating you. He cares about you," Ben hummed, "-You guys know each other inside and out because you want to learn it all. Both of you do. I don't think Eddie's going to run."

"But what if he does?" Richie asked, pathetically, "-I can't... Ben, if he can't handle me, I'm fucked. I don't think I can-"

"If anyone can handle you, it's Eddie," Ben laughed a little, before adding, "-except for maybe Stan and Patty."

Richie laughed a little too.

"The point being, if-" Ben made sure to stress that word, "-and I really don't think this would happen, okay? But if Eddie couldn't handle you, you'll be okay. It'll hurt, but all of us Losers will be here for you. Worst case scenario, you have us."

He let a breath rattle out of his lungs, "Yeah, I do."

"But Richie, I really don't think you should even think like that," Ben spoke, carefully, "-Eddie really, really cares about you."

"I know," Richie sighed out.

"I don't think he'd even want to leave your side, honestly," Ben hummed, "-When you're finally united, I don't think that Eddie will want to leave you alone again. Ever."

Richie pressed his lips together, as tears burned the backs of his eyes.

"Eddie's not gonna run, Richie," Ben echoed again. His voice soft and warm, it made Richie's head clear and eyes grow heavy.

"Yeah," Richie exhaled a deep breath, "-he won't."

He could almost hear the smile through the line, Ben's little soft one. The one that if you saw would make your insides feel gooey, because it was just so fucking kind. God.

"I love you, Benny," Richie spoke, light and scratchy.

"I love you too, Rich."

"Now," Richie switched gears, grinning, "-about Ms. Marsh-"

Richie woke up that morning lighter, Ben's words thrumming through his head. He was up, miraculously, at 7:30 (all these timezones were really fucking with his sleep schedule). And was currently debating getting ready and heading out early. Because he couldn't exactly wait, or sit still, it was fucking impossible for Richie Tozier. He was itching to fucking go, to shave down some of the hours to get to Eddie.

If he left early though, Eddie would probably freak out though (something about hours of sleep and blah, blah). So, he just decided to grab his phone and fidget with it for a while.

Richie liked to search himself up, he'll admit it. He liked to dive into his fandom like a super spy (like the boss working undercover in that one show). He did it for a lot of reasons, maybe to see what his fans wanted or what they were reacting well to. Sometimes just to see what shit they were up to. This usually spanned from a lot of different platforms: Instagram, YouTube (he loved watching edited compilations of himself), Reddit, and Tumblr primarily.

Today, his poison was Reddit.

r/trashmouthtozier

u/trashmeuptozy • 4d

What are our theories about Richie's disappearance?
2.4k upvotes • 1.7 comments

⬆️ ⬇️ 💬

toziers-texas-toast • 4 days ago

personally I think he's u-hauling

⬆️1.25k ⬇️89 💬

reddie-girlie • 3 days ago

all I know is that it probably involves 🍝

⬆️1.2k ⬇️27 💬

bouncing-baby-boy • 3 days ago

guys don't worry he's just on a side quest

⬆️1k ⬇️54 💬

not_on_my_crotch • 2 days ago

fucking ur mom

edit: ur dad sorry

⬆️967 ⬇️53 💬

Richie pursed his lips, letting out a sigh (a little of relief), he was actually kinda worried about the reception of him just up and leaving. But, they seemed to be handling it relatively well. They obviously had questions, as they should, but they weren't harassing him for answers, so it was good.

r/trashmouthtozier

u/tozier_babeyyyy • 2 hrs ago

Reddie Playing Minecraft (link)
my first ever reddie comp !!! Hope you guys enjoy :)

⬆️3.5k ⬇️22 💬

Richie stared at it for a second, before clicking the link. Maybe a little too quickly, they could have his IP address right now-

"Alright troops-"

And then it was off like a rocket, every single moment they spoke to each other -documented. He watched the village section more than once, of his own doing, just rewinding and watching it over and over. Watching Eddie shuffle behind him, like he'd known he'd protect him. God. What a stupid fucking way to feel about a game-

It carried on the same, all the moments he remembers (he doesn't think he can ever forget anything about Eddie to be fair) all the way up to the end of his stream. He watched himself do his outro, Eddie's Steve fidgeting with chests on his screen.

Laughing a little, he went to get out of the video, but-

BONUS ROUND: spaghetti talking about Richie to the other losers, flashed onto his screen -some very fast-paced royalty-free music following.

Richie paused for a second, what?

Now, he was looking at a clip from Bev's stream. Her camera up in the top right corner, Richie mindlessly noted that she had looked very pretty that day, good for her. Before focusing on her screen, where just a few steps in front of her Steve (Eddie) was watching Richie run around in circles with Bill. The iron golem, at that moment (it flicked between Bill and himself), was chasing him around the outskirts of the village.

"If he dies," Eddie suddenly spoke, and he watched Bev adjust her vision in the game to look at it, "-he doesn't like... Nothing bad happens, right?"

Richie smiled, gleaming a little bit.

"Nope," Bev smiled, bright, and popped the 'p', "-Worst-case scenario, he ends up back where we started and has to get back to us-"

Richie watched as Bill was suddenly launched into space and the chat snapped onto their screen.

big.bill was slain by an iron golem

He laughed a little at the memory.

"-Just like Bill will have to do now."

"Oh," Eddie responded, still watching Richie get chased around the village with a keen eye. Was he always looking at me?

"C'mon, Eddie," Bev interrupted, "-Let's steal some crops, and then we can tear down their houses for resources-"

"We sound like fucking colonizers," Eddie retorted, and both Bev and Richie started snort laughing in tandem.

And then, he was looking at Mike's screen, facing out onto the flower field. Eddie was stood right beside him, so he knew relatively when this was. Even heard himself a little distantly in the background.

"I'm staying here. I'm living here. My vote's for here-"

Mike was close to Eddie though, so now, he could hear Eddie laugh a little. A soft, sort of affectionate, of all things, laugh that made Richie's head spin a little. Okay, a lot. It made his head spin a lot.

Affectionate? For Richie Tozier? Praise fucking god-

"He's such an idiot," Eddie laughed out.

"In general? Definitely," Mike responded, laughing a little too, "-But for you? God help his brain cells."

"Yeah, well," Eddie spoke, soft, "-I'm an idiot for him to, so."

Ben interrupted the thought, "I agree, it's-"

And then, it cut again to Ben's stream, he was wandering over to where Eddie started building -assumedly from the direction of Bev's house. Unsurprisingly, Richie might add. He was half convinced they shared that house, actually-

"Do you think Richie will like it?" Eddie asked suddenly, Ben shuffling up to his side.

Richie grinned a little.

Ben grinned, big cheeks shot up with the warm motion, before adjusting his vision to see the frame that Eddie had built. It wasn't much, just the corners of each wall, but it was very meticulously done. Different blocks (which it should be said that Richie fetched him) all placed in their exact spot. It was pretty good for his second time playing, honestly. But, he might've been a little biased.

"It's really nice, Eddie," Ben chimed, cheerfully, "-but I do think you could build it out of dirt and Richie would still be stoked."

Very true, his mind agreed.

"I wanna actually put effort in," Eddie replied, flustered (Richie could see his cheeks all puffed up in his head), "-It's our house. Ya know? It's gotta be good."

"I think," Ben smiled, "-As long as you're in it Eddie, Richie will think it's good."

Eddie stayed quiet for a second, looking out at the house, staring. Richie waited with a breath.

"You're such a fucking sap, Ben," Eddie retorted, with no bite at all.

"Yeah, well, apparently," Ben turned to look at him, laughing, "-you are too."

And then, Eddie spoke softly, "Yeah, I am too."

Just like that, it cut to an end card. Subscribe button, next video and all.

Richie blinked, throwing himself back on the bed. Fuck, I love him. So much. Too much probably. Was he supposed to love somebody this much? Like with every fiber of his being? Every single cell? Every single fucking atom?

Taking a peek at the time, he quickly decided on sending a quick message.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
good morninggggg eddie baby 💞✨️

hope you had dreams of fucking frolicking in meadows or some shit

Fuck it.

With a breath, he stood up and started packing. His tiny little bag, full of definitely too little outfits for a trip this long, but it would not be the first time he re-wore shit. So, he was okay with it. Until, ya know, he saw Eddie. He wanted to be wearing clean shit then (he saved his Marsh original that he liked so much for the occasion).

Humming along with a song that decidedly wasn't playing, grabbing all of his hygiene shit.

"Right now, he's probably dancing with a bleach-blonde tramp, and-" he murmured, before stressing out a word, "-and she's probably getting frisky."

Unzipping a pocket, he shoved his deodorant into it. And his cologne, fancy cologne, that he maybe only bought for meeting Eddie. But he did actually like it too. He wouldn't just buy it for Eddie (he totally did).

"Showing her how to shoot a combo," he sang louder, "-and he don't know-"

He heard his phone vibrate in his pocket. Felt rather.

e.kaspbrak is calling

Richie smiled a little, answering and putting it onto his shoulder (pushed up against the side of his head).

"Hey, Eds," he chimed, bright and smiley, and pulling his bag up off the floor. Day 5.

Eddie took a pause, and Richie heard maybe the scratch of a blanket. Had he just woken up?

And then, his voice came in quiet and sleep-slurred, "Hi, Rich."

Something warm shot through his toes, he'd never heard Eddie just woken up. This was new. And Richie wondered for a second if his hair was messy, or maybe his face had patches of red from where he'd slept. He'd get to see that soon, god.

"Awe, did my lil Spaghetti just wake up?" He cooed -half genuine and half teasing.

"The only thing that's right about that fucking sentence is that I'm yours."

Richie blinked. Mine, Eddie's mine. My Eds. 'I'm yours'. My Spaghetti. My boyfriend. My boyfriend, Eddie. Eddie's mine-

"Fuck yeah you are," Richie chimed -grinning bright and wide.

Eddie giggled a little (and Richie wondered if he was rubbing his eyes like a little toddler would), "Why are you up so early?"

"Dunno," Richie answered honestly, throwing his bag into the passenger seat (per usual), "-I just woke up this early, Eds. Aren't you normally up this early? Earlier, actually-"

"I don't have a job anymore, dipshit," Eddie explained, "-and I think I overdid it last run, so I slept in. Fuck you."

"Jeez," Richie laughed, connecting him to the radio, "-I was just asking a question. You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

"No," Eddie replied, quickly, "-Speaking of, I sleep on the left-"

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "O-kay, Eds. What's-"

"-So, if you do too, you have to just fucking deal with it."

Oh.

Richie blinked, before answering awkwardly, "No problem, Eddie baby, I kinda just sleep in the middle."

"What the fuck do you mean-" Eddie mocked his voice, and Richie smiled (what a shithead), "-'I sleep in the middle'?"

"I spread out like a starfish," Richie clarified, listing, "-on my stomach, and sleep in the middle."

He could almost hear Eddie's nose scrunch up, "What the fuck? You're such a freak."

"What?" Richie asked, a little genuinely, "-Is that problem? I can just move over to the right side so-"

"No, it's not a fucking problem," Eddie interrupted, "-We're boyfriends, we can cuddle, idiot."

Richie blinked, Oh.

Cuddling with Eddie? Richie nearly pressed the gas to go fucking faster.

"Unless," Eddie paused, quieter -uncertain, "-Unless, you don't want to, I guess-"

"No, what," Richie clarified, swinging his hand around, and focusing on the car in front of him, "-Eds, that sounds like fucking... heaven. I just... I haven't thought about that shit. Because we were so far apart, it'd just make me sad as fuck-"

"Oh," Eddie spoke, blankly. Maybe a little flustered.

Richie wanted to see his face so badly right now that it made his skin itch. God, seriously-

"Yeah, well," Eddie pushed through his thoughts, "-you're gonna fucking kiss me when you get here, so. You better get fucking used to it."

Something swirled in his stomach. Kissing Eddie? Jesus, he hadn't thought about this shit at all. I get to kiss Eddie, god. In like a day-

"Why don't you just kiss me?" Richie laughed a little, splotchy red blush crawling to his cheeks.

"Because," Eddie answered, plainly, "-I want you to kiss me, asshole."

And I'd do anything you wanted, Richie's mind added.

"Yeah, okay, Eddie baby," Richie spoke softly, before switching up, "-As your celebrity crush, I know you've been dreaming of this moment for a long time-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, dickweed," Eddie snapped back, short laughter cutting into the tone.

"-Although, I should clarify, I won't be as good as dream Trashmouth," Richie commented, "-I may not hold up against the competition. But jokes on you, you can't leave me for me so."

"I haven't dreamed about you kissing me, moron," Eddie huffed out, "-and you need to get over that shit."

"No way," Richie laughed, turning slightly, "-That shit is sticking forever. Sorry, Eds."

"It's not that fucking important-"

"It is," Richie interrupted, "-It so is. I was your celebrity crush! That's so fucking sick."

"How?" Eddie asked, curiously.

"Well," Richie drummed his fingers along the wheel, "-you fucking watched my streams and thought, shit, he's handsome-"

"That wasn't-" Eddie paused, exhaling a breath, "-You're handsome, but it wasn't... How do I fucking-"

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Eds?"

"It was like-" he started, before decidedly restarting, "-It wasn't like a celebrity crush, where you just kinda think they're handsome and just like their voice or some shit-"

Richie listened.

"-It was like... It was like having a crush on my best friend. Because you're just-" Eddie paused, "-You're just so... you on your streams, so fucking... human. Celebrities are intangible as fuck, but you... You wore ugly fucking shirts, and you have the dumbest fucking jokes, and your hair is a mess on your head. You're a fucking person, and I just... I just wanted that. Wanted you."

Richie pressed his lips together, heart skipping a beat.

"So, it was like-" he continued, slow but deliberate, "-like we were, ya know, friends, and I just knew you. Saw all that shit firsthand. And I liked that. Liked you."

He blinked. Fuck, I love him so much.

"Well," Richie let out a breath, smiling too bright, "-that just makes it more important so. You've fucked yourself."

Eddie paused, "Shit."

Richie started snort laughing, eyes clear on the road despite the laugh wracking through him. He heard Eddie break into his own laughter, and it only made him smile brighter because, god, did he love the shit out of Eddie's laugh. Well, he loved the shit out of Eddie in general-

"Are you driving already?" Eddie asked, after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"Yeah," Richie replied, turning off where he needed to, "-I woke up early and got fucking antsy. I'm not a patient man, Eds."

Eddie hummed a little, almost like he was still a little tired, "How long are you gonna drive today, then?"

"Well," he pursed his lips, trying to remember shit, "-I've got like 14 hours left, maybe less. You won't let me push shit but I have already driven 9 hours in a day before-"

"Richie," Eddie warned.

"-I know, Eds, I know. But it's either I do the long drive today or tomorrow, and I really don't want to be fucking passed out on my first day with you."

"I'm gonna make you rest either way, dipshit," Eddie countered, "-You've been through every fucking timezone in America, your brain must be totally fucking fried."

"C'mon, Eds," Richie chimed, going into a cliché New Yorker accent, "-ya gotta show me the city."

"The shitty city?" Eddie clarified, flatly, "-The one I hate?"

"It's New York," Richie laughed a little, "-There's gotta be something worthwhile."

"I know the shit you're trying to pull. You're not gonna change my mind, Richie," Eddie replied, pointedly, "-Even if you do all those hours today, when you get here, you're gonna fucking rest."

Richie paused, continuing hesitantly, "So, you're okay with me doing the long drive today?"

"You don't," Eddie paused, seeming a little too quiet and working himself up, "-You don't need my permission to do shit, I didn't mean to-"

"Eddie baby, stop," Richie soothed, immediately, "-It's not a permission thing. It's a 'for your well-being' thing. I don't want to do shit that will stress you out. I refuse to do shit that would make you feel scared when I can't 100% be there to fix it. Or at least fucking... help you through it."

"Really?" Eddie questioned, quietly.

"Of fucking course, Eds, I love the shit out of you," Richie laughed a little, "-and the idea of you being stressed the fuck out, alone, makes me want to bite my own fucking head off. So-"

Richie took a breath.

"-are you okay with me driving that long today?"

Eddie paused, before slowly saying, "You promise you'll stop driving if you need to?"

"Absolutely," Richie agreed, "-I'm not gonna push myself beyond my limits, Eddie baby. I promise."

There was a spare second of silence, and Richie started drumming his fingers along the wheel. It was the beat of 'Before He Cheats' (the song he was singing before). And his eyes remained squarely on the road -straightforward and focused.

"Okay," Eddie sighed out, "-Okay, yeah, you can drive 9 hours. That's... I'll be okay."

"Yeah?" Richie asked, genuinely.

"Yeah, Rich," Eddie laughed a little, "-Just make sure to eat and drink properly, and maybe hit the rest areas so you can stretch out your freakishly fucking long legs-"

"Can't call 'em freaks, if that's how ya like 'em," Richie interrupted with a Southern accent, "-Mr. 'my type is tall idiots'."

"I was hitting on you, moron," Eddie huffed out, "-You're my first boyfriend. I don't even know if I have a type."

"Yeah, I kinda figured," Richie laughed a little, "-That text drove me fucking crazy for weeks."

"Yeah, well," Eddie cleared his throat, "-fucking imagine what I felt when you told me your type."

Richie paused. ("But yeah, Spaghetti, teeny little brunettes who are mean to me.")

"Wait," Richie started, "-you... I, your celebrity crush, described you, a teeny little brunette who is mean to me, as my type. And you... what?"

Eddie didn't say anything for a second.

"Don't make fun of me. Or else I'll kick your ass."

"Roger that, Spaghetti," Richie echoed in a growly voice (like it was coming out of a walkie-talkie), "-please proceed."

"I... Ugh," Eddie exhaled like the words hurt to say, "-I threw my phone across the room. It cracked my whole fucking screen-"

"You what?" Richie interjected.

"It's just-" Eddie started to explain, increasingly flustered, "-You were... you. And I was, I was the exact description. And it hit me for a second that, you know, you were kinda tangible. That, with like... the right fucking circumstances, I could have you. Easy."

Richie blinked, before sputtering, "You could. You did. You do, you do have me now."

"Well," Eddie paused, smiling (Richie could hear the cheesy grin), "-I guess I got the right fucking circumstances."

"The best ones," Richie chimed, heart rattling in his ribs (Eddie, Eddie, Eddie), "-maybe."

"Yeah, shithead," Eddie replied, "-the best ones."

Chapter Text

Richie was fidgeting -fingers tapping along the wheel. He was pretty sure if he was driving a car, he'd be tapping his foot like a fucking mad man -shaking shit, probably.

Why, you may ask? Because Richie had 2 hours. He was on the 6th day, and he was 2 hours away from Eddie Kaspbrak. 2 hours, 2 fucking hours. From Eddie, his Eddie. Eds-

"Richie?" Bev's voice rattled through the radio, "-Did I lose you?"

Richie blinked -solidly once, "Sorry, it's just. Um, two hours, and then... and then, fucking Eddie. I get Eddie."

"Trashmouth Tozier speechless," Bev laughed, "-never thought I'd see the day."

"I just-" Richie motioned wildly (Bev could not see it), "-Eddie, its fucking Eddie. He's been so far away and now he's... Now he's 2 hours away. That's so-"

"Unbelievable, intangible," Bev listed, laughing still (maybe a little excited herself), "-Take your pick."

"Like, fuck," Richie laughed, "-Eddie's right there. Eddie's there, I'm gonna fucking see him with my own two eyes. And he's gonna... I can... Fuck, dude."

Everything was starting to fade into city, and Richie felt nerves and just fucking... elation crawl under his skin. God, seriously? Eddie? He was getting fucking Eddie? Eddie was coming back with him-

"I'm so fucking happy for you, Rich," Bev spoke, smiling (Richie could somehow hear it) and something in her tone scratchy, "-So fucking happy, you deserve this. You really fucking do."

"Are you crying, Red?"

"Yeah, of course, you're getting Eddie," Bev laughed -wetly, "-Both of you are gonna be so happy, and I love both of you and... Shit, Richie, you're gonna have Eddie."

"I'm gonna have Eddie," Richie repeated, laughing and crying a little bit, heart skipping a beat, "-God, Marsh, I'm gonna have Eddie."

"Fuck yeah, you are," she echoed, laughing but most definitely still teary.

"Fuck yeah, I am," Richie repeated -smiling big and bright.

Bev stayed on for a little longer, but pretty soon after (probably an hour and a half). The call switched over, naturally.

"Can you see the buildings yet?" Eddie asked, genuinely.

Richie could, in fact, they were a little in the distance but he could still see them. And fucking Eddie was in one of them, Eddie. His Eddie. His Eds. God. Richie thought his hands might've been shaking against the wheel.

"Yep," Richie popped the 'p', less quippy for understandable reasons, "-shiny metal on the horizon, Eds."

Eddie seemed fidgety too, words a little smiley (twinkly, if Richie had to truly describe it), "You have my apartment building in your GPS, right?"

"Just like you said," Richie confirmed.

"There's a parking garage nearby," Eddie quickly added, "-The prices are fucking insane by the hour, but it's close. So, you can... You can park there, if you don't mind a walk-"

"Eddie baby, I just made a 43-hour, six-day trip for you," Richie laughed, "-I can handle walking a few blocks."

"Fuck me for being considerate," Eddie snapped back, but in an antsy kind of way (Richie knew all the Eddie-isms, what can he say?), "-I'm fucking locking you out."

"Jokes on you, Eds," Richie pointed out, "-I'll sleep in the hallway. And I know you'll have to leave at some point so-"

"Ew, no," Eddie interrupted, nose shriveled up, "-the floors are fucking disgusting. You can't do that."

"Well," Richie laughed, "-what do you want me to do? Drive all the way back to sleep at my apartment? 43 hours straight-"

"Shut up, asshole," Eddie chimed back, laughing, "-and fucking get here."

And then, he was in the city. Big tall buildings stretching through his eyesight, yellow taxis peeking through the traffic, Richie felt for a second like he was in a movie. Why had he never been here?

It was like California in some ways, and entirely different in others.

The traffic was slow enough that his eyes shot along the crowds shoved along the sidewalk, different shopping bags in the crook of their arms. Hotdog vendors, food stands, cafés, all pushed together like someone had done it with their hands. Richie may have a tourist mindset, but he honestly thought it was all pretty sick. A weird new vibe that Richie believed wouldn't be great for long periods of time, but great for maybe a few days.

"Where are you?" Eddie asked, almost giddily.

"Fuck if I know, Eds," Richie smiled, peeking at his phone, "-GPS says like 5 minutes."

"That's definitely not including shitty traffic," Eddie remarked, "-What do you see? Maybe I can gauge where you are."

"Um," Richie tapped along his steering wheel, "-I see... Shit, there's so much, Eds, how do I pick?"

"You're so fucking useless sometimes," Eddie muttered out, "-just follow the GPS. When you see the building, there's like a red one and then the parking garage. So, just go there."

"Okay," Richie took a deep breath, eyes lingering on everything as the traffic crawled -he wasn't even hitting 5 mph at the moment, "-okay. Building, red, parking garage. Got it."

The minutes felt excruciating. Neither Eddie nor Richie saying a word, the silence sparkling with just anxious energy. If he wasn't driving, he'd probably shake his hands out a few times.

"Your destination is on your left."

Richie's eyes shot to the left and landed on a shorter-than-expected building -assumedly made of old brick. There was a little graffiti on the side, colorful but that's all he could really see. Quickly, he moved to look beside it, eyeing the small red building (maybe a clothing store? He couldn't tell.), and then a little bit forward, a parking garage, the parking garage.

"I've got eyes on the parking garage, Spaghetti. Over," Richie spoke, interrupting the silence -talking like he was speaking through a walkie-talkie.

"Shit, okay," Eddie seemed to scamper to his feet, "-just go park, and um, fuck. Remember my room number, 302. And oh! Bring your shit in, we're staying here at least a night."

"302," Richie repeated, and took the turn off into the parking garage, "-okay. And by my shit, you mean my singular bag, yeah?"

"If that's what you packed, idiot," Eddie laughed a little.

"Yeah, yeah," Richie dismissed, paying and then pulling into the next available spot -which ended up being on the 3rd floor.

He let out a breath, shaking his hands once.

"Do you wanna stay on the phone, or...?"

Eddie answered, "No, I think... You need to focus on getting here. And I don't want you to drop your phone because people are assholes and will shove into you-"

"Okay, Eddie baby, relax," Richie laughed, pulling his bag up on his shoulder, "-I'm gonna be fine."

"Yeah," Eddie let out a breath, "-Okay, well, see you in a few minutes."

Richie grinned, heart flipping in his chest, "See you in a few minutes, Eds."

"Fuck, okay, yeah," Eddie scrambled for a second, before saying -abruptly, "-Bye."

And then, he heard the dial tone.

Richie laughed a little, shoving his phone into his pocket and pulling himself out of the car. After locking it, three times (Eddie had emphasized that), he wandered out onto the pavement. Decidedly, he took the stairs. And okay, maybe he was running a little. So what? No one could see him. Plus, there was a line for the elevator. And Richie wasn't waiting one more fucking second-

Finally, he was on the streets of New York City.

Richie blinked, watching people scattered around the sidewalk. Some stopped, impolitely, some moving so fast he wondered if they might be late to something. Some dressed to the nines in what Richie didn't think he could ever pull off, and others just in the typical business wear. It was a little overwhelming, honestly, and he kinda missed his car.

Eddie, his mind chimed, you're going to Eddie.

Richie steeled, and made his way onto the sidewalk. He noticed immediately that no one really looked at him, which was a little refreshing but also kind of not. He didn't have the time to think about it. Horns echoing in the back of his head, his eyes hooked on the red building. Curiously, he peeked into the windows and saw big lettering along the window: 'Annie's Antiques'. It was more rundown than he'd seen before, on the street, but it strangely kind of suited it.

And then, there it was. Eddie's apartment building. Eddie was in there. Eddie Kaspbrak. His boyfriend, who he loved. God, Eddie was in there, waiting-

Richie walked quicker, even passing by some people (passing fucking New Yorkers? Jesus, he was desperate), and slipped through the doors.

The place wasn't crazy cheap with like shitty, peeling wallpaper or stained carpet. It was pretty normal for an apartment building, Richie had definitely stayed in something like this before. That is to say, his apartment was better. He had a pretty good apartment though, so, that didn't say much-

"Can I help you, sir?"

His eyes snapped to a woman at the front desk, a long one with old, wooden sort of charm. Or maybe it was just old.

"Uh, no, I'm just-" Richie bounced on his toes, "-I'm visiting someone."

"And you know their room number?" She asked, in that fake sort of polite way (otherwise, she looked like she really didn't want to be there).

"Yes, yeah," Richie cleared his throat, "-I just need to know where the elevator is-"

"It's out of order," she interrupted pointedly, and motioning toward a door, "-but the stairs are to the left."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Richie finished, awkwardly. And tried his best not to run to the door, he may have speedwalked though.

Noting somewhere in his head that she had not said 'you're welcome', Richie pushed open the door into a stairwell. A less clean one than his own (he noted to not touch the railing at all), but other than that, very similar. He stared at the steps for a second, they almost seemed a little looming. Dim lights didn't help how it looked either. Richie took a big breath, and pulled himself up the first step.

"302," he muttered, counting the flights in his head, "-302."

Pushing open the door, to what he assumed to be the third floor, he was met with an average hallway. Some packages in front of doors, some rugs, nothing was personalized other than that, though.

He gnawed at his lips and moved his head to the left -301. He moved his head to the right -302. His heart was beating so loud that he heard it in his ears -heavy and quick.

Richie swallowed and took measured steps to the door. Until he was right in front of it. Wood staring right back at him.

He could feel anxiety prickle along his arms and took a few deep breaths. Fuck. Richie tugged once at his curls.

Okay, Tozier, you got this.

Trying to keep his voice steady, he raised his hand -knocking and saying cheerfully (which he did not have to fake), "Special delivery!"

Before Richie could even stress about this being the wrong door, he heard footsteps scamper across the floor. Laughing a little, he heard the click of a few locks -done so quickly that he barely heard it at all. After that, the door was snapped open with a ferocity that would surely slam against the wall if you didn't-

Richie's mind went blank.

Eddie.

He was standing right in front of him. Wearing that blue shirt that he'd asked his opinion on (For me?) and jeans that he rolled up at the ankles. And his hair was the kind of messy that Richie had told him he liked once. And those big ass brown eyes were staring at him, expressive doe-eyes looking straight into his soul. And his faded freckles across the bridge of his nose were clear as day, no blurry phone screen. Fuck, he was even more beautiful in person-

"I love you."

Eddie's voice came out breathless, like it took all of his might (or maybe like he felt it with every fiber of his being), and there was no digital crinkle. It was just his voice -straight to his ears. Richie felt his heart leap into his throat.

Right there, right in front of me, Eddie's right there-

Richie felt so much that he wasn't even sure how to start. Instead, he just moved on instinct -red splotchy patches moving up his collarbone.

He smiled, gentle and soft, "I love you too, Eds."

Richie watched as he flickered through a few different emotions, eyebrows pulling and mouth both flattening and quirking up. It felt like he was looking at a painting in a fucking museum and kept learning new meanings... or, or seeing new metaphors. There was just so much, laid out in front of him, and brewing in his fingertips. God, he felt like he might fucking faint-

"You're such a..." Eddie huffed out, cheeks puffed up -pink smoothing up his face. His brain seeming to work on what to say.

Richie opened his mouth to say something-

Eddie raised his hand, and tugged at his collar -bringing him (and his bag) stumbling into the doorway. He was barely a breath away from him, big brown eyes locked onto him.

Richie's eyes grew wide, mouth snapping shut.

He could feel his face get hotter -eyes darting between Eddie's. Eddie seemed a little shocked too, but after a few moments, his face screwed up into a flustered frown (one Richie recognized easily). It made his heart flutter, Eddie right in front of me-

"Fuck it," Eddie grumbled out, low and in between the two of them. Richie blinked.

Before he could do much else, Eddie's hands were on his face (all soft and warm fingertips), snapping their lips together.

It only took a second for Richie realize what was happening, the way that Eddie was pushing himself as physically close to him as possible, the way his hands definitely itched to lace themselves into his hair, the way Eddie was fucking kissing him-

Richie moved on autopilot, awkward hands at his sides smoothing over to around Eddie's waist. And then, Eddie relaxed, hands pushing forward around his neck and, as expected, into his hair. He felt goosebumps along his skin, erupting across every inch, because god, he was fucking kissing Eddie. Richie had the stray thought that he tasted like mint, the mouthwash kind. And he liked it, somehow, because it was just so... Eddie. So, so Eddie. It made something in his blood burn because it was Eddie. He was kissing Eddie. God.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, kissing, over and over and over again. Some surface level, some not. Richie pulling him as close as possible, and Eddie reciprocating by doing the very same. Everything just slotted together perfectly, fuck Eddie was right there. Eddie.

Richie grinned against his lips, laughing a little -so fucking elated he felt like he might just start floating. Eddie's lips quirked up too, making the kiss all teeth, but Richie couldn't give less of a fuck. Eddie's laugh filled his head, and he took it as a motion to pull back just one breath.

Eddie was looking at him, smiling, red-splotchy face, and kiss bruised lips. His big brown eyes were fucking... twinkling, and it made something in his stomach twirl and flutter and kick, everything.

Richie moved slightly, kissing his cheek, and then the other, and then the tip of his nose, and then his cheekbones, and then his eyebags, and then his forehead-

Eddie was 100% giggling now, and it made Richie's brain slow to a low buzz.

"Okay, okay," Eddie laughed, moving his hands to Richie's shoulders and pulling him back slightly -not too far though, "-that's enough, Rich."

Rich, Rich, Rich, Rich, Rich-

Eddie blinked up at him for a few seconds, and Richie did the same -just staring. Because there Eddie was, right there. Right in front of him, with splotchy skin and pink lips because of him, Eddie Kaspbrak was right there. Eddie. His Eddie, Eds, Eddie baby-

"Fuck," Richie laughed a little, "-You're fucking right there. What the fuck."

Eddie laughed again too, hands moving up to cradle his face again, saying -in disbelief maybe, "So, are you, dipshit."

"Yeah, well," Richie offered, not moving an inch (and gently feeling the strokes of Eddie's thumb against his face -it shot all the way down to his toes), "-it's fucking bigger for me. I've only see you in videos and fucking... pictures-"

"No," Eddie tsked, frown pulling at his lips (he wanted to kiss him again so bad it physically burned) and eyes hitching all along his features, "-it's bigger for me, moron. I've been watching you stream for like fucking... years. And now, you're just... your stupid face is right in front of me."

Richie smiled, the soft kind, and tilted his head to the side ever-so-slightly, "And your beautiful face is right in front of me."

Eddie just stared at him then, unrelenting with his cheeks puffing up and red splotches crawling up his skin. Richie wanted to keep him forever-

"Fuck you."

Richie snorted, naturally wanting to move back, but Eddie's hands kept him in place, right in front of him. It was a little funny for a moment how his body shot back into place -stumbling right back to where he was standing.

"Quite the grip, ya have there, Mr. Kaspbrak," Richie retorted in a British accent (a cliché one, of course).

"Well," Eddie's eye flicked around his face, cheeks puffed up still and face still splotchy, "-I just got you, dipshit, I'm not fucking letting you go. Not willingly."

Richie paused, blinking a few times. Something swirling in his stomach, a little like butterflies.

God. He loves me.

"You know what, Eds?" He chimed back, looking at him (a little like he was his world), "-Surprisingly, I think I'm perfectly fine with that."

"Yeah?" Eddie smiled (maybe a little like he was his world too), brushing some of his hair back -gently.

Richie just looked at him, tangible and right in front of him (he could feel the thrum of his heartbeat against his skin), "Yeah."

Chapter Text

Richie felt like he was on cloud nine, floating. Like a cartoon cat who was smelling a fucking pie. He had the whole rest of the day, eating some doordashed food with Eddie on the couch -wrapped around each other (Eddie's hair smelt like strawberries if you wanted to know). Richie clung to him, and just like he said before, Eddie didn't mind at all. Maybe even wrapped around him tighter, maybe even slipped his fingers to tread through his hair, maybe even wanted him closer. The trash TV was like a comforting murmur, and eventually with the rhythm of Eddie's hand in his hair, and the thrum of his heartbeat under his ear, Richie found his eyelids a little too heavy.

Eddie near instantly dragged him off to bed ("You're gonna hurt your back, dipshit."). And Richie doesn't remember too much after that, except for maybe the smell of strawberries.

Richie shifted, blanket scratching up against his skin. He hummed and went to stretch his arms, but found himself stuck. For a second, he thought it was numb but-

A tiny little snore.

Richie blinked, eyes shooting to the weight on his arm. And there he was (close enough to see without his glasses, although he doesn't really remember taking them off).

Eddie curled up against his side, his head tilted back a little and diagonal from Richie's eyesight. His eyes flicked along his face, the faded freckles he seemed to always be noticing. And his long fucking eyelashes that were so fucking... delicate, if Richie had to describe it somehow. He looked like a painting, all intricate details and just bliss, completely vulnerable. An Eddie no-one really got to see (but Richie fucking was).

Richie eyed his arm, which was under Eddie, and laid flat against the bed. He moved it to wrap around Eddie, fingers pressed into the soft fabric of his shirt. He actually didn't even know what he was wearing (he'd kinda passed out as soon as he hit the mattress), but it looked like a set of some kind with fancy trims.

With sudden realization, he realized just what he was looking at. Fucking Eddie, his boyfriend, cuddled up against him. Right, he'd driven 43 fucking hours, and he was here. With Eddie. Real Eddie. Eddie whose puffs of breaths Richie could feel on his face. Eddie whose heartbeat thrummed against his skin. Eddie. Fucking Eddie, his Eddie-

Richie raised his other free hand, and carefully threaded it through Eddie's hair. It was naturally soft, because, of course, Eddie fucking took care of his hair.

Eddie's nose scrunched up for a second, and Richie froze in place -halting his breath in his chest and eyes wide.

Eddie shook his head a little, just barely to the left, and Richie watched him carefully. And then, with a breath, Eddie pushed himself further into Richie's chest -nuzzling into his shirt like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Fuck, Richie wanted to cry.

Pressing his lips together and taking a deep breath, Richie moved his fingers out of his hair -careful and considerate.

Fuck, god, Richie was so fucked. So entirely fucked. He loved him so much, he doesn't think he could love somebody else as much as he loves him. Eddie is just... He's fucking Eddie. The only Eddie. His Eddie.

Richie smiled, wrapping his arms tighter around him. He kinda wished he could stay here forever. Although it would be so shit without Eddie talking to him, he might go fucking crazy. Richie had been alone for too long, and now, he had Eddie. He was used to Eddie and god, it would feel like he lost a fucking limb if he lost Eddie-

"Stop thinking so hard, idiot."

Richie blinked, as Eddie's finger thumped against his forehead.

"Did you just fucking flick me?" Richie laughed a little, voice a little scratchy.

Eddie moved a little, not enough to get out of his grip, and wiped at his eyes (Richie almost physically cooed), "You were in your fucking head about shit that you didn't need to be."

Richie stared for a second, before questioning, "How could ya tell, Spaghetti?"

"Because," Eddie started, brown eyes set on him and finger pushed into Richie's chest, "-I know you, asshole. I'm right here and I love the shit out of you. So, fucking stop."

Richie blinked. He loves me, right.

He was not really used to him saying that, nevertheless him saying it physically in front of him. Eddie saying anything nice to him right now meant triple the... emotion, because Eddie was right there, and he was real, and he meant that shit. And Eddie wouldn't let him think for a second that he didn't.

"I love you too," he finally said, meekly.

Eddie stared at him tilting his head, before reaching a hand up to fidget slightly with his hair. Like he could fix it (which with just waking up, he certainly could not). And fuck, maybe he really did like his hair-

"What shit do you wanna do?"

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "What?"

"In New York," Eddie hummed, still entirely focused on his hair, "-You said you wanted to do some tourist-y shit. So, tell me."

Richie offered, "You said you didn't want to, Eds. That's-"

"Yeah, but you fucking want to," Eddie spoke, finally connecting their eyes, "-I'm gonna do what you want, shithead."

"If you don't-"

"Richie," Eddie leveled bringing both of his hands to hold the sides of his face, "-I'm gonna fucking do it because I fucking want to, so just tell me what you want to do."

Richie pressed his lips together, thinking, "I dunno, I wanna get like a... cheesy souvenir, and I wanna at least see the Statue of Liberty-"

"Central Park?" Eddie questioned, a little like he was planning, "-Times Square?"

"Fucking Times Square-" Richie grinned -excitedly, "-that would be so sick. All those fucking billboards that are way too fucking big, and the crowds of people. I could be like Avril Lavigne on her album cover-"

"That wasn't fucking Times Square," Eddie smiled, patting his cheek patronizingly, "-but nice try."

"A New York street," Richie dismissed, waving his hands around, "-It's the same fucking thing in like... aesthetics."

Eddie turned away from him, pulling himself up and against the headboard. Richie watched him, eyeing the pajama shirt. It was, in fact, a set with long sleeves, matching color, and fancy trim (Seams? Collars? He had no fucking clue what you called them).

Richie wouldn't expect anything less of Eddie Kaspbrak. Because of course, he had matching pajama sets. Fuck, he loved the shit out of him-

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie shoved into him, "-get up. We've got shit to do."

"What happened to resting?" Richie whined, gathering himself up into the covers and hiding his face away.

"You're rested, fuckface," Eddie tugged the blanket off of his face, and Richie was grinning too bright to be mad, "-We have to get a fucking move on. We gotta put all my shit in your car, go on whatever fucking trips you want to, and then get the fuck out of here."

"Okay, but that can-"

"Oh, and the salon," Eddie grabbed Richie's glasses and slid them onto his face, naturally, like he'd done it 200 times over, "-or some fucking... haircare place."

Richie blinked, taking in the very much clearer Eddie silhouette -who was not looking at him (fidgeting with a bottle on the nightstand). His eyes snuck over his bedhead and the skewed collar of his shirt, something Eddie normally wouldn't be fucking caught dead with. And Richie got to see it. Maybe he should literally fucking pray to thank whatever the fuck is up there that he got to-

Wait.

He furrowed his eyebrows, "A salon? What? Why?"

Eddie sipped some water and then turned to Richie, brown eyes solid. They were the fucking epitome of doe-eyed, he'd never even known what the fuck that meant until he saw Eddie, actually-

"They are gonna teach me how to deal with-" Eddie threaded a hand through Richie's hair, it physically almost got stuck but Eddie seemed unphased, "-this. So, I can fucking take care of it. Or make you. Or both. Probably both."

"Seriously?" Richie sat up beside him, not before stretching out his arms -just like he had tried earlier that morning, "-Is it that shitty or something?"

"No," Eddie tsked, immediately, "-It's not. Don't even start that shit, you're handsome as fuck either way. I just want it to be healthy."

"Do you do shit to your hair?" Richie asked (remembering the soft feeling of it between his fingers).

"I don't 'do shit' to it," Eddie mocked, stating straightforwardly, "-I fucking take care of it."

"Yeah, whatever," Richie dismissed, "-What do you do to it?"

Eddie pressed his lips together, before answering, "Just hair masks and shit, healthy shampoo and conditioner. I don't shower every day because your hair needs oils and nutrients and showering every day washes them away-"

Richie listened -attentively.

"-But, you'll need more shit because of your hair texture. So, I have to learn."

Learn how to take care of my hair. Because you like it. And you love me-

Richie smiled, "Whatever ya wanna do, Eds. You know I love you so much that I'll let you do fucking anything-"

"If you love me so much," Eddie interrupted, pointedly, "-fucking get up and get dressed."

Richie waited a second.

"For me," Eddie finished -a touch softer, more convincing. It was good, Richie's resolves were really fucking slipping. Fuck, he could probably convince him of literally anything.

So, he did it.

Richie ended up pulling out some slightly too-big jeans that creased and loosely fit him (held together with a black belt), a slightly cropped shirt (it was a bigger size, so the crop was lower) that was embroidered with the words 'extra spicy', and a red chili pepper. It made only a little of his skin show, which Richie had initially been weirded out by. But Bev had kinda helped him with... clothes, and he believed in Bev wholeheartedly, so he wore it with pride. (Not to mention, she had pushed it to the nines because he was fucking finally getting Eddie.)

So, he was a little more... fashion-forward today.

With a breath, he fidgeted with himself in the mirror. He's not entirely sure why because Eddie had surely seen him in worse. Yeah, so maybe Eddie had a point the other day. He wanted him to like how he looked.

Whatever, if he hates it he can always change-

Knock, knock.

"Richie?" Eddie echoed out, pointedly, "-C'mon, we got shit to do."

Richie took a deep breath, and moved to open the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Richie teased -playfully, and opened the door, "-I'm gonna miss the bus, yada, yada-"

"Just fucking-"

Eddie stopped.

Richie paused, turning to properly look at him. His eyes were stuck on him for a second, eyes skimming over his clothes. Shock-still.

Fuck. Did he not like it?

Richie scrambled, pulling at his shirt slightly, "Is it not... I can change-"

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie interrupted, sharply, "-You just... It looks good. I just, I didn't know you wore fucking... crop-tops."

"Is that bad?" Richie pressed his lips together, "-Do you not-"

Eddie stepped forward, grabbing Richie's arms solidly, "Stop. I just said it looks fucking good. I like it a lot. I'm just surprised."

"Oh," Richie blinked, "-okay."

Eddie blinked again, a flush of red crawling up his collar as he stared -unabashedly. Richie fidgetted with the end of his shirt, self-consciously. Eddie's eyes followed the motion a moment.

With a breath, Eddie snapped his eyes away, and muttering, "Jesus fucking Christ."

Richie laughed a little, skimming over Eddie for a second. His hair was still the kind of messy Richie liked, loose and just a little styled. He was wearing some pretty casual stuff, a big kinda ivory (was that the word?) t-shirt with brown overalls and big clunky sneakers with beige accents-

He blinked, fucking overalls?

And Eddie's cheeks were a flaming, splotchy red -cheeks puffed up. Fuck, he was so fucking cute, it made Richie wanted to sweep him up and keep him forever-

"You look really good too, Eds," Richie added, after a breath, "-Really fucking cute."

Eddie blinked, pressing his lips together -a little awkwardly, "Thanks."

Richie loved him so fucking much. He couldn't help it.

Leaning forward and kissing him once, domestically, like he was a husband going off to work in the 1950s or some shit. But it meant enough. Casual, like it was going to happen again, like it meant they had enough time to be casual, like they were going to kiss so much and for so long that eventually it would be fucking casual-

Eddie stared at him for a second, before leaning forward and doing the same thing -once.

Richie laughed, echoes of mouthwash mint on his lips -stronger because he'd just done it. He thought that he might never be able to see mouthwash the same again. Especially after Eddie. Would it be weird if he changed mouthwash? Or got a stronger toothpaste? Would he lose that familiarity? Would they kiss enough for it to be familiar? Probably. He could spend his whole day kissing Eddie, would prefer it, actually-

"C'mon, moron," Eddie grabbed his hand, "-we gotta get fucking moving. Help me with these boxes in the corner first."

And so, they were off.

They put away all of Eddie's boxes (in a trunk that Richie was sure they wouldn't fit in but miraculously somehow they did), and tossed his suitcase in the back for easy access. They had six days after this, after all. Well, unless they stretched it out that was fine with Richie. Except for the streaming part, he probably needed to catch up on streaming soon.

With that, Eddie was pulling his apartment key out of his pocket and handing it to a new lady (one that seemed a lot nicer). And the two of them were standing out on the New York sidewalk -the world at their fingertips.

Richie was still pretty mystified, eyes shooting along the buildings and the people. But, Eddie didn't waste much time.

"Phone," he patted his pockets, routinely, and Richie snapped to him (giving him his full attention, per usual), "-wallet. Do you have your keys?"

Richie pulled out the ring (which had an assortment of little keychains on it), shaking it a few times, "Sir, yes, sir!"

Eddie laid a flat stare onto him, but Richie could see his lips quirk up ever-so-slightly. Which was a win in his book.

"Yeah, yeah, it's a stupid bit, I know," Richie shook his hand -dismissively, and then interlaced it with Eddie's, "-Alright, Kaspbrak, lead the way."

Eddie smiled a little, eyes darting to their hands for a second, before straightening and starting to speedwalk in a direction (luckily Richie's long strides matched up with Eddie's speed perfectly), "We should hit Times Square first because the longer we fucking wait, the busier it is."

"Whatever you say, Spaghetti."

Eddie rolled his eyes but tugged him along.

Unsurprisingly, Eddie both knew his way, incredibly, and parted the crowds like it was the fucking Red Sea (Moses? Right?). Maybe because of the stern frown pushed onto his features, or maybe because he exuded the energy of an angry chihuahua. And chihuahuas would fucking bite your hand off if you tried shit, so maybe they didn't want to test it. (Richie wouldn't, if he wasn't immune.)

Richie saw a lot on the walk, cute little cafés, benches, too many stoplights to be helpful, somebody cussing out a store owner. It was a little like he was in a theme park, everything bright and loud and new and either really good-smelling food or fucking sewer stench. It was kinda fucking magical.

Before he could note anything else, Eddie pulled him over by a metal umbrella table beside some sort of restaurant -significantly out of the way of the sidewalk.

"What are you-"

Eddie grabbed Richie's shoulders and spun him around with one forceful motion. And then-

There was the rush of footsteps, the shine of billboards, and the elaborate fucking signs.

"Holy shit," Richie laughed -eyes scattering along the buildings in awe.

It wasn't like it was a magical moment, not really. If he was honest, it was kinda stimulation overload. All the noises and lights, but at the same time, it was cool as shit. He felt like he was in some movie, where the music swept up and the camera spun around him like he was having some sort of revelation-

Eddie squeezed his hand.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, and spun to meet Eddie, thinking it might've been a sign that he wanted to say something. It was pretty loud so he probably couldn't-

And before he could speak, Eddie tugged his face down to his and kissed him. No hesitation. A kind that made Richie's head spin, heart fluttering, and brain quietening to a low buzz (he prayed he'd get these kinds more now). Because everything was just so... Eddie. Quick and emotional and impulsive and just fucking... passionate like he'd been waiting years-

Eddie pulled back, and Richie let his eyes flutter open slowly -head twirling.

Eddie was smiling at him when they parted, and it made something warm shoot down to Richie's toes. Because god. That's my fucking boyfriend, and he's smiling (smirking really) about making me blush? Fuck-

"Jesus," Richie laughed a little, "-The fuck was that about, Eds?"

"The way you looked was cute," Eddie shrugged, before adding casually, "-Plus, somebody was staring at you."

Richie burst into laughter then, "Look, I love ya, and believe me I am not complaining, but you can't just kiss the shit out of me every time someone so much as looks at me-"

"Who says?" Eddie retorted (Richie's heart skipped a beat, you're gonna kiss me like that again?), before continuing, "-And she was making her way over to you. I can't just take that shit."

"How do you know she wasn't just a fan, Eddie baby?" Richie teased, and he watched the pink flair up onto his cheeks with pride.

"Because your fans are sick in the head," Eddie retorted, "-and would've just interrupted us."

"You were a fan once," Richie laughed, pulling himself back and fidgeting with his hair, "-You know that, right?"

"I still am, moron, and I also didn't say I wasn't sick in the head," Eddie clarified, "-You're like a fucking parasite."

"Wow, how romantic," Richie spoke, flatly, but grinning all the same.

"No, I'm just-" Eddie let out a sigh, "-It's really fucking easy to be obsessed with you, is what I'm saying, dickhead."

"Are you?"

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Obsessed with me," Richie asked playfully -raising his eyebrows, suggestively.

"Richie," Eddie leveled seriously, "-I'm so obsessed with you that it's fucking clinical."

Richie blinked, "What does that mean exactly?"

"I spent a year and half silently watching your streams because I thought you were the most attractive person on the planet, I text you literally 24 hours a day," Eddie listed, stubbornly, "-I have entire album on my phone dedicated to pictures of you both before and after we were dating-"

"Wait, wait, wait-" Richie laughed a little, "-before we were dating?"

Eddie's face went cherry-red, cheeks puffing up, "Just fucking... stream screenshots and stuff. From when I just thought you were... Fuck you."

"You're the cutest human being on this fucking planet, Eddie Kaspbrak," Richie leaned forward and gave him an obnoxiously wet kiss on the forehead (Eddie scrunched up his nose), "-and I love the shit out of you."

Eddie broke into a little smile, "I love you too, idiot."

"But yeah, I have an album for you too, Eds," Richie grinned, "-So I think it's safe to say we're obsessed with each other."

"You should see the one I have as my phone background-" Eddie laughed a little, and Richie snapped to attention.

"What?"

"You're my phone background?" Eddie repeated, curiously, "-Is that a problem, or-"

"No, what," Richie smoothed his hands down Eddie's arms, "-That's just so fucking sweet, and I wanna see which one it is like... yesterday."

"You remember that day you were cooking? And listening to fucking Snoop Dogg?" Eddie asked, smiling, as he turned on his phone.

Richie moved to peek over his shoulder, "Yeah, of course, the day you told me I was your first fucking boyfriend. Still unbelievable, by the way-"

"Well, you were doing your cute little fucking scenario thing, and then your glasses fogged up, and well-" Eddie turned his phone toward his gaze.

Sure enough, it was Richie -shocked (he remembers forgetting Eddie was there), hair a mess, and glasses foggy. It wasn't the most special picture, but it meant a lot to Richie then. Because what? You chose that silly ass picture over ones that might physically look better? Because you love me? Totally and completely? And you love my weird shit? And you love me-

God.

Richie moved from behind his shoulder to press a kiss to his cheek, a simple one. He thinks it spoke enough. Eddie turned to match his eye with a sneaky little smile, and it made something in his head swim because, fuck, did he love the shit out of him.

"We gotta get going," Eddie turned and pressed a kiss to Richie's cheek (it made him go bright red).

"Yes, dear," Richie said -nasally.

Eddie shoved into him, hard, and Richie stumbled in place but they both were laughing. Laughing and smiling and Richie thought maybe he wanted this for the rest of his fucking life. And he let himself think that for once.

"C'mon, dipshit," Eddie called, laughing and intertwining their hands again.

"Yeah, yeah, lead the way, Kaspbrak."

And he did.

They went to the salon then, Eddie guiding him into this purple accented place that smelt so good that Richie physically closed his eyes.

"Hello," a woman with the sickest dyed hair (a purple gradient of some kind) Richie had ever seen smiled, "-What can I do for you two today?"

"Your hair is awesome," Richie spoke (he couldn't control his mouth).

"Thank you," she smiled politely, a little genuine though, "-Did it myself, actually. My girlfriend helped though."

"Speaking of," Eddie interrupted, kindly though (he was so straightforward that it might be a little rude if you didn't know him well), "-I actually wanted to ask you about his hair."

Richie obediently went to his side.

"Yeah, of course," she answered, "-What about it?"

Eddie moved a hand up to thread through it -casually, "It's curly, and he doesn't know how to take care of it, but I want to. Can you help me with that?"

"So," she started like she was just reassuring, "-you want to know how to take care of his hair?"

"Yes," Eddie answered -succinctly, moving his hand down from his hair and almost on instinct, Richie moved to wrap his arm around Eddie's shoulder to replace it, "-I like it this way, but I want it to be healthy."

"Oh, no, totally," the woman motioned with her hands, and started guiding them into the building, "-I get it. I can 100% help you. Do you want me to recommend products? Or do you just want to buy them here?"

"Whatever's good for his hair," Eddie answered.

"So, we're supposed to sell the products here," she stage whispered, "-but I know some better stuff for beginners."

"Thank you... um," Eddie started, asking without asking.

"Shit, sorry. I'm Emmy," she offered, laughing a little, "-I've got you guys."

"Eddie," Eddie motioned to himself and then, to Richie -who waved with his freehand, "-and Richie."

She paused for a second.

"I hate to say this, but," Emmy tilted her head, looking at Richie, "-do I know you?"

Richie smiled a little, "I stream. Trashmouth Tozier on Twitch?"

"No shit, my girlfriend loves you-" she grinned, "-She's always talking about you and-"

She paused, eyes connecting with Eddie.

"No fucking way," she laughed, still gently guiding them (towards the hair washing station, he thinks), "-Oh, if she was here, she'd lose her fucking mind."

Richie squeezed Eddie closer with a tug, just in case. It wasn't always the nicest experience being recognized, especially for the first time. Eddie nudged himself more into his side, and Richie turned and pressed a kiss onto his temple -near instinct.

"Yeah," Richie responded, "-I'm glad she's into my shit."

"She loves you," Emmy stressed, "-If you're okay with it, I'd love a picture. Just to say it happened? Just you, not Eddie. I know you're not in the spotlight or anything."

Richie smiled, opening his mouth to say something-

"It's okay," Eddie interrupted, "-I'll be in the picture, that's fine. It's only a matter of time until he starts fucking posting me everywhere. So, I don't mind."

Richie paused, grinning -squeezing Eddie into his side and leaning his head onto Eddie's. He doesn't think he'll ever willingly let go of Eddie, ever. That's all on Eddie. Eddie can let go-

"Just make sure to keep it off social media until he posts me first," Eddie added, casually.

"No, yeah, of course-" Emmy agreed, before motioning for Richie to come sit down (at, in fact, one of those washing stations), "-Let me get you started, actually-"

And then, she showed Eddie everything. Or well, Richie assumed so. He was getting his hair washed, which meant he was kinda useless. Getting your hair washed by someone was just so... relaxing. He heard Eddie talking, he knew that, but his mind was just a low buzz. His eyes closed, he just moved with the motions.

Richie was only a little more aware when she was styling. He was, honestly, a little scared that she was gonna bring out a straightener or a curling iron (he'd had some scary experiences with them before), but she didn't. Instead, Emmy did some like scrunching motion with some shit Richie didn't note. To be fair, he was fucking distracted as shit-

Eddie was so focused, typing away on his phone's notes app. To take care of him. To take care of Richie. And he was supposed to be normal about that shit? Yeah, right.

He had this set look on his face, complete focus as Emmy spoke to him. And then, she'd let him help. With the washing, his hands would smooth through his hair; with the styling, she'd let him do some parts. They were talking, yeah, but all that Richie could look at was Eddie in the mirror. All he could focus on-

Eddie was staring at Emmy, big brown eyes attentive and ever-so-curious. Hands ready to type away on his phone, eyebrows pressed together (with a cute little wrinkle between them), and biting his bottom lip slightly in focus. God, Richie loved the fuck out of him.

He walked out of there with shiny hair with significantly less frizz. But not enough for him to feel weird, he still felt... Richie. If that made any sense. He was always worried about changing his hair because it wouldn't feel right but this felt pretty good. Well, it helped that Eddie kept fidgeting with it, and Richie physically melted every time he did. And he wanted him to do that shit more, all the time maybe-

"Richie," Eddie snapped in front of his face, "-Are you in your head again? I won't hesitate to fucking-"

"Shit, sorry, I'm fine, Eds, just-" Richie blinked, "-You keep touching my hair."

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, "Is that... bad?"

"No, Eddie baby, not at all, it just-" Richie laughed a little bit, tilting his head, "-It makes me zone out. Makes my brain go fuzzy and shit."

Eddie hummed, stepping on his tippy toes to fix some of his curls with smile, "Yeah?"

Richie laughed, even still leaning into his hand a little, "You're such a little shit."

"Pay attention to me next time, then, asshole," Eddie bit back, grinning just a little.

"Awe, Eds, wants my attention," Richie cooed, moving his own hands to brush along Eddie's face and crouching slightly to match his eye, "-You've got it. Tell me, Eddie baby."

"You are such a shithead," Eddie smiled at him, the kind that made Richie's head a little woozy, "-I was saying, do you wanna go get some ice cream? I know a place by the Statue that's good, you'd like it."

"Eds," Richie leveled, grinning at Eddie (like he couldn't help it) "-first off, I'd do literally fucking anything you wanted. Secondly, you're the one with the sweet tooth-"

"Shut up," Eddie laughed, and something in Richie swirled.

"-but as said with point one, if you want it, Eddie baby, lead the fucking way."

Eddie rolled his eyes, just staring at Richie, a smile split across his lips that made Richie want to twirl his hair and kick his feet. And maybe kiss him senseless. Which actually-

Richie leaned forward and pecked him, just because he could. And he wanted to. A simple press of the lips, that made Richie's head twirl slightly, made him stumble over his feet for a second. Eddie laughed when he did it, and Richie preened.

He could hear no one else's laughs forever, and as long as he had Eddie's he'd be totally fucking fine-

When they separated again, Eddie's eyes were soft and sappy -detailing all over his face, and hands rested on his cheek, "I can't believe you're right fucking here. Right in front of me."

"No shit," Richie laughed a little, "-I thought I might've been dreaming when I saw you this morning."

"A dream?" Eddie cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, Kaspbrak, if you look up Richie Tozier's dream man-" Richie asserted, "-You'll be right fucking there. In your cute little angry gremlin glory."

"Yeah, well," Eddie puffed up his cheeks -which were flushed by the way, "-you're my dream guy too. Obviously."

"I would hope so," Richie teased, smiling big, "-What kinda celebrity crush would I be if I wasn't your dream man-"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," Eddie shoved at him, but not far enough to let him fully go. Brown eyes solid on him, skimming along his face so affectionately that Richie wanted to squeal like he was in the audience of a boyband concert (because fuck, he loves me).

"I love you," Richie hummed -low and just between the two of them.

"Love you too," Eddie grinned -more serious than usual (it made Richie's head spin), "-Let's go get some fucking icecream."

The walk was surprisingly short, which made Richie think that Eddie had either planned this or was really fucking good with directions. Which, he could picture either. It might've been both actually.

"Here, let me just-" Eddie dug into his pocket, ready to pay.

Richie intercepted, near immediately and tapped his phone, "Yeah, no, Eds, sorry. I'm covering it."

"Richie-"

"Uh, uh, uh," Richie tsked, shaking his head and pocketing his phone (after the cashier confirmed it went through), "- it's your first date, Imma wine and dine ya."

Eddie frowned, obviously biting back a smile, "It's icecream at the Statue of Liberty."

"Oh, Eds, my sweet summer child," Richie pat his face, other hand holding his cone, "-I'm only getting fucking started."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Eddie questioned -following him and interlacing their free hands (something in Richie swirled).

Richie smiled, "I got shit planned, dear Spaghetti. Halfway courtesy of Big Bill. Which, you should be very proud of me for."

"Proud of you for what?" Eddie snorted, "-Fucking planning?"

"Yeah, exactly," Richie addressed, licking his icecream, before lowering his voice, "-I'm a new man for you, Eddie Kaspbrak."

"Better not be," Eddie retorted, straightforwardly, "-I like the old one."

Richie laughed, splotchy red climbing up his collar, "Funny, I like you too, Eds. We should date."

"You think so?" Eddie grinned -tilting his face to properly look at Richie.

"Fuck yeah, I do," Richie affirmed, walking where Eddie was guiding him, "-and then, tomorrow, you can move in with me."

"Yeah?" Eddie smirked.

"Well, as long as you're okay with 43 hours with this fella right here," Richie tried to point a thumb at himself, the icecream cone didn't exactly help the cause, "-then I'll sweep you off your feet to San Francisco. Best boyfriend ever style."

"Best boyfriend ever?" Eddie quoted, teasing, "-Those are some high fucking stakes, Trashmouth."

"Yeah, well," Richie let out a (exaggeratively) nonchalant sigh, "-I'll deliver. Plus, you have no other experience so-"

"Shut up, asshole," Eddie laughed, and Richie wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it forever. Store it in his pocket for when he is feeling sad. Or maybe just listen to it because he wanted to-

"I think you already are," Eddie hummed, walking forward with their swinging hands between them.

"Already am what?" Richie questioned.

"Delivering," Eddie looked at him with twinkly eyes and a warm smile (that made Richie's heart leap in his throat).

"Really?" Richie laughed, "-Two days and I'm in the ringer-"

"Yeah, I mean-" Eddie explained -letting go of his hand just to fidget with Richie's hair again, "-you let me drag you to a salon because I'm neurotic about hair health."

"And you-" Richie stressed, "-went to a salon to learn how to take care of my hair, by proxy take care of me."

"I told you I was gonna take care of you, dipshit," Eddie echoed, stubbornly, "-I don't say shit I don't mean. Especially not to you."

He'd dealt with a lot of empty promises from guys, a lot. Because they knew that's what Richie wanted, something sturdy, something safe. An unmoveable object that loved him. Someone he couldn't scare away. And they all used to say that was impossible ("I really care about you, Richie. And that's not gonna change."), but it did. It always changed (or maybe it wasn't the way they said it in the first place at all). But Richie fell for it every time because he craved it so desperately, and he wanted to be fucking... special to someone because he hadn't felt special his whole life. He felt invisible and he just wanted someone to see him.

And now, he was here with Eddie. Who saw him and couldn't fucking look away, didn't want to, actually. Who made promises and said things so solidly that Richie couldn't help but believe them. And if he didn't, Eddie would work on it until he did. He fucking loved him. Everything about him. Everything. The stupid accents, his dumb shirts, his frizzy hair. All the things that other guys didn't want to be caught dead with were Eddie's fucking favorites! And every time Richie hated something like that, an imperfection, Eddie set him straight. Because he loved every part of him, every single atom, and he wasn't gonna let any of it get shit on. Not even from Richie himself.

Eddie Kaspbrak was everything Richie Tozier physically wanted and everything he didn't know he needed.

And on top of that, he loved all Eddie's shit too. His snappiness, his perfectionism, his affectionate bullying (that Richie hoped he'd never have to go another day without), and his huge ass capacity to fucking... care (that sometimes he saw as negative, too much). If Eddie was freaking out, Richie could, and would, soothe it. Eddie was safe with him, and he thinks that's really important to Eddie. So, it's gonna stay that way. Richie will be a human shield to him if he has to, like that one fucking picture of that soldier, taking all the bullets. He'd protect Eddie, but only when he needed it. When he wanted it. He didn't always need it, but when he did. It was there, it would always be there. Forever, probably.

Richie Tozier was built for Eddie Kaspbrak, just like he knew Eddie Kaspbrak was built for Richie Tozier. Two peas in a pod.

Yeah, sure, maybe a weird fucking pod, but still. Richie, personally, couldn't ask for anything better.

"Yeah, Eds," Richie hummed, throwing his arm over Eddie's shoulder and leaning his head on Eddie's -both of them looking out to Lady Liberty herself, "-I know."

Chapter Text

"If I wasn't an option," Richie posed, "-which Loser would you date?"

It was the second day of driving, they were about halfway through their 'driving hours' and Richie was trying to keep himself entertained. With Eddie now, it was easier to occupy himself -whether it be fidgeting with his hand or just keeping up a conversation.

"What?"

"If I wasn't an option, which Loser would you date?" Richie repeated -casually.

Eddie paused -thinking, wordlessly. Richie kinda wanted to look at him, but they were on the road. He'd get to look at him later anyway, he'd stare at him as long as possible later. Like he did in that mirror-

"Bill," Eddie answered, half-certain, "-He's kinda like you in a different font."

Good point.

"But you'd secretly yearn for me the whole time," Richie added, playfully, "-right?"

"Obviously," Eddie responded, grinning (completely in-sync, it made Richie want to scream how much they just... belonged).

"That's what... Beddie?" Richie thought on it, before shriveling up his nose, "-Disgusting, actually."

"That is pretty bad," Eddie relented, before stating -stubbornly "-Not that I like fucking... Reddie."

"Awe c'mon, Eds," Richie blindly moved around, searching for his hand -Eddie met him in the middle (laughing a little), "-It only means they love you."

"I already know that," Eddie added, and Richie could feel him look at him, "-They're always spamming chat with the fucking spaghetti emoji. Thanks for that, asshole-"

"Uh, uh, uh," Richie tsked, pulling Eddie's hand to his lips and kissing it, "-I have it on good authority that you like that shit, actually."

"You're such a fucking dick," Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was definitely smiling -it made a smile peek along Richie's lips too.

"A dick for citing my sources?" Richie asked.

"Shut up," Eddie stressed out, "-I take all that shit back. Turn around, take me back to that shithole-"

"It's so cute when you lie to me, Eds."

"Shut the fuck up-" Eddie laughed, taking his freehand (the others stayed intertwined) and shoving at Richie's shoulder -hard, "-asshole."

"Next question-" Richie started.

"Hey, no," Eddie interrupted, "-You didn't answer. Don't try and fucking slip out of that shit."

They were technically playing 20 questions at the moment but Richie was pretty sure they were way past 20. So, yeah, there were rules. Technically.

"Yeah, okay, Eds, let me think," Richie hummed -thumb dancing along the back of Eddie's hand (a mix of tapping and rubbing along the skin), "-Is this a completely imaginary world? Could I hypothetically like women? Because-"

"Bev is such a cop-out," Eddie hissed.

"Okay, okay," Richie laughed -tapping his fingers along the wheel.

Miles and miles of road ahead of them (but Richie didn't really mind that with Eddie there). He could probably do anything with Eddie. He gave him like secret fucking powers, he felt fucking invincible with him. Like everything was fucking amazing, like nothing could hurt him.

"Honestly?" Richie finally started to answer, "-Probably Stan. He knows what's best for me, and other than you and maybe Bev, he's the only one who can deal with me."

"What about Patty?" Eddie asked -curiously.

"Throuple," Richie clarified, "-obviously."

Eddie hummed, and he took it as a sign to continue.

He added, "I always told them if I was still alone at 30, to clean out a room and I'd be their practice kid."

"You already are their fucking practice kid," Eddie remarked -pulling their hands into his lap and fidgeting with Richie's (fingertips tapping along his knuckles).

"That's very true," Richie leveled, "-You can't fucking imagine how much Stan the man has helped me with you."

"Helped you with me?" Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, "-What the fuck does that mean?"

"Stanny's like my surrogate parent," Richie explained, "-So any time I had like new feelings or any of that... shit, I went to him. And well, Steve too, but you can only have so many appointments-"

Eddie followed up, brown eyes set on the side of his face, "But about me? What about me?"

"Um, early on, we talked about you," Richie answered, "-but like every big event, probably. Like when we actually like really started messaging all the time, when I said you could move in with me, when I figured out I was in love with you. Well, actually, he helped me figure that shit out-"

"When was that?"

"When was what?" Richie asked.

Eddie clarified, still staring at him, "When did you find out that you loved me?"

Richie's eyes flashed to him for a second, taking in his face -all big eyes and curious glance. He had to keep it quick, because otherwise, he would physically not be able to stop. Every time he looked at Eddie he found something fucking new to love-

"This count as a question, Eds?" Richie asked.

Eddie paused a second, before answering, "Yes, yeah, I'll answer it after you do."

Richie let that sit for a minute. Okay.

"When you told me my smile was crooked," Richie spoke -instinctively (it was still stuck in his mind), laughing a little, "-and then insulted me for getting embarrassed. That was... That was the first time it ever fucking... hit me. And I wasn't really sure that it was love, hence the Stanley thing, but yeah. Then."

Eddie eyed him silently for a second, "That was like 4 days before you actually said it."

"Yeah," Richie laughed, "-I'm really not fucking good at keeping my mouth shut. But I do think it was probably longer, that's just the first time I thought it."

There was a pause.

"What about you, Eds?"

"The first time I thought it?" Eddie asked.

Richie clarified, "Sure, whatever you can remember."

Eddie took a moment before his eyes fell to their hands -unlacing them just to trace the creases in Richie's palms. It sent goosebumps down his spine, he was getting used to the touching constantly still, not that he didn't initate 75% of it-

"I think-" Eddie started, before pausing, "-I think the first time the fucking... word came to mind was probably... um, when you were cooking? And you did that stupid alien skit."

Richie blinked, "What?"

"Yeah, I just-" Eddie continued, fidgeting with his hands with more intention (nervous maybe), "-I saw you fucking... being you. Just a giant fucking dork and only I get to see that shit, and I don't know it just... I thought about it for a second."

"Shit," Richie laughed, red climbing up his collar, "-Seriously? How did you-"

"I didn't like fucking cement it," Eddie clarified, a little flustered, "-it was just there. I think when it did was... Well, it's fucking cliché but a little after you did that fucking speech about loving me. It was when you told me that you'd drive fucking 43 hours for me. The fact that you'd thought about it beforehand, and that you would just do that shit for me. I don't know it just... I was just like 'fuck, I really do love you'."

"I'll never understand how you didn't fucking say it. It was all I could fucking think about, every time we talked it was like a blaring fucking alarm," Richie made his voice a little louder and more robotic, "-I LOVE EDDIE KASPBRAK, I LOVE EDDIE-"

"Because I have self-control, unlike you, idiot," Eddie snapped, playfully, "-but it wasn't fucking easy. It was the first thing I said to you, don't you fucking remember? Or is your memory-"

"Of course I do," Richie interrupted, seriously (noting that there was a gas station the next exit), "-I'm never gonna fucking forget that. Probably ever."

Eddie's lips snapped shut, and a silence enveloped the car. Richie paused, Was that too serious?

"Are we stopping anywhere soon?" Eddie asked, something in his voice that Richie couldn't name.

"Yeah," Richie's eyes flicked to the fuel gauge, "-Imma fill up at this next exit. Why?"

Eddie decidedly didn't answer that, and soon enough, Richie pulled off into the exit and then into the gas station. There wasn't much chatting, but Richie was a little focused on getting where he needed to, so he didn't note it.

With a breath, he pulled up to a pump and parked.

"Are we parked?" Eddie questioned -pointedly.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, turning to Eddie and unbuckling his seatbelt, "Uh, yeah, wh-"

Before he could finish the sentence, Eddie launched himself forward and kissed him. So fast that Richie barely fucking blinked, and took a moment to understand what was happening. When he did though, Richie laughed. Eddie pushed forward (a little like he was craving it which made Richie's head swirl), but it only made it worse -in between kisses he laughed even more.

"Stop fucking laughing at me," Eddie finally separated, now fully over the gearshift between them -angled to match Richie's face, and smacked his chest.

"It's just you fucking-" Richie laughed, before retorting with a suggestive eyebrow raise (it should be noted that Eddie kissed him after each word with a cute little frown), "-My serious voice get ya hot under the collar, Mr. Kaspbrak?"

"Maybe," Eddie pulled back, but not too far, "-plus, I like when you drive. You do that thing where you stretch your arm out to look behind the car and-"

Richie was grinning, and Eddie’s voice faltered -frown flat on his lips (cute little cheeks puffed up). Fuck, I love him-

"-Fuck you, asshole. Sue me for being attracted to my boyfriend."

God.

"I love the fuck out of you, Eddie Kaspbrak," Richie laughed, putting one of his hands on the side of his face and pressing their lips together again. A slower kind, deliberate.

Richie felt Eddie relax into him, frown dissipating and the tight grip on his shirt lessening (his hands laid flat against his chest after a moment). And he was losing his shit a little that he could do that to Eddie. Because what the fuck-

With a breath, and when Eddie seemed completely... well, calm (if that made sense), Richie pulled back. And he relished in the second that Eddie stayed there -eyes still closed like he was waking up from a dream. God, Richie felt so fucking powerful-

His eyes fluttered open, brown resting on Richie -affectionately (lovingly, even).

"You satisfied, Eddie baby?" Richie laughed, "-That work for you for a while? Because I really gotta go get some gas and then we gotta drive a lot more-"

"You're such an asshole," Eddie scoffed, still a breath away, "-See if I ever let you kiss me again."

"You sure you can hold yourself to that, Spaghetti?" Richie leveled laughing a little, voice a lower than necessary whisper, "-If I remember correctly you kissed me first-"

"Shut up," Eddie puffed out his cheeks -lips in a thin line and pink crawling up his collar. He leaned forward a kissed him again, a surface-level kiss, a peck. A little like he needed it to physically survive, and you know what, Richie did too-

"Okay, okay, Eds," Richie laughed pulling back again -hands smoothed along his face, "-I love you, I do, but we really gotta fucking fill up now."

"I know," Eddie hummed, before letting out a deep sigh and pushing himself back into his chair -Richie on instinct almost chased him, "-Let's go get gas, fuckface."

"You coming with?" Richie posed, curiously.

"Of fucking course I am," Eddie responded, instantly, "-why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno, I just-" Richie shrugged, "-I just gotta go in and pay and then I'm back out here again, it'll just be a minute."

"I wanna stretch my legs, asswipe," Eddie countered, "-Plus, I've spent enough time away from you, I'm not doing that shit anymore."

Richie grinned at him, slightly tilting his head, and he saw Eddie's eyes flick over his face like he was taking him in. Totally and completely.

He teased, a cheesy grin clear on his face, "You want some candy don't ya, Eddie baby?"

Eddie's lips fell into a flat line, and he puffed up his cheeks.

"Yeah, maybe," he spoke, quietly, before adding (and combing through Richie's hair), "-but I really fucking do want to be around you 24/7, I'm not just saying that."

"Yeah, I know, Eds," Richie laughed, smiling at him gently, "-I don't think you could physically escape me ever now. I think you're fucked-"

"Not fucked," Eddie interrupted, "-That's actually what I wanted. What I want, present tense."

And then, after Eddie wrestled him down for one more kiss, the Eddie kind where it felt like he'd been wanting to do it for decades (in reality, they'd kissed like 1 minute beforehand. But hey, you wouldn't find Richie complaining-), they finally got out of the car and loaded into the gas station.

It should be said that Eddie left with a bag full of an assortment of candy. He actually didn't even fight him to pay, which Richie was pretty stoked about (If he could, he'd take care of Eddie for life). Even if it was just tiny little things. As said before, he'd give him anything he'd wanted.

All that being said, they were back on the road -splitting some Starburst. Eddie only liked the pink and yellow, and Richie ate all the others. So Eddie would meticulously unwrap them, and instead of placing them in Richie's hand (he kept their hands intertwined), he popped them into his mouth. He distinctly had to wonder how Eddie wasn't losing his shit touching Richie's lips because he sure as fuck knows he would-

"What's your go to move?" Eddie suddenly broke the silence, and clarifying, "-Flirting with a guy."

"Does Eds want me to pull the moves on him?" Richie teased, "-Sweep you off your feet? Because I-"

"Shut up and answer my question, asshole," Eddie snapped back -popping a yellow Starburst into his mouth.

Richie pressed his lips together in thought.

"Probably try and make him laugh," Richie started, "-Just kinda warm him up, I guess."

Eddie hummed, tilting his head, "You did start talking to me with jokes."

"I did," Richie agreed, "-and I was definitely trying to flirt with you. And your cute ass freckles."

"You can barely even see them," Eddie pointed out, hand patiently waiting with an orange Starburst (Richie's least favorite if he was honest, not that he'd tell Eddie that because he wasn't sure if Eddie would then try to eat them himself).

"Yeah, but they're there," Richie reasoned, "-and the sunny skies of San Francisco will get those babies out for me to love-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever fuckface," Eddie shoved at his shoulder with the side of his hand -carefully of the candy, "-What about when you're actually trying to flirt? After the whole fucking... warm up."

"Uh," Richie blew a raspberry, "-I'm actually not fucking... sure, Eds. I don't... I don't think I'm great at flirting."

Eddie laughed, "Yeah, right, asshole."

"I'm serious," Richie relented -honestly.

Eddie stared at the side of his face, blinking, "You're so fucking stupid."

"Jeez, Spaghetti, I didn't-"

"Shut up," Eddie quickly interrupted, "-You're so fucking... charismatic and nonchalantly confident. It's fucking... hot."

Richie laughed a little in disbelief (but he believed Eddie wholeheartedly), "Nonchalantly confident?"

"God, you do it all the fucking time," Eddie paused for a second, maybe trying to explain, "-It's just... Like when you called me fucking... beautiful. I was trying to fucking embarrass you, and you just... doubled down. Confident as shit."

"That's-" Richie paused, "-I mean, I just meant it."

"You were being confident," Eddie annunciated, "-and it's hot as fuck. There's no way you don't pull that shit out."

"Well," Richie echoed, carefully, "-I did with you, apparently, and that's all that matters to me, personally."

Those words settled in the air for a second.

And then Eddie pulled their intertwined hands to his lips -kissing the back of Richie's hand. It made his heart skip a beat, so incredibly tender and fucking... loving.

"Your turn, Eds," Richie finally said, playfully, "-What are your moves?"

"Batting my eyes," Eddie answered simply, popping the Starburst into Richie's mouth (his lips tingled for a second too long), "-and probably the whole bullying thing. If you count that as flirting."

"I definitely fucking do," Richie clarified, before commenting on the other part, "-and your eyes are fucking... enchanting, you have the longest eyelashes in the world. You could probably make me do anything if you just fucking looked at me-"

"You'd do anything for me just by me fucking... existing," Eddie laughed a little -popping a pink Starburst into his mouth.

"And your eyes are definitely a fucking part of that," Richie pointed out, before agreeing, "-But yeah, just you being you makes me want to rip the moon out of the sky and give it to you."

"You know what that would do to the world?" Eddie laughed -throwing the Starburst wrapper into their makeshift trash bag.

Richie smiled, and wished he could kiss him then, "I would end the world for you, babey~"

"You're such a dumbass," Eddie kept laughing, as the road twirled ahead of them.

They drove for a few more hours until night fell. Well, actually, a little past that, which took a lot of convincing on Richie's part. But Eddie did eventually cave. At like 11 though, Eddie nearly grabbed the wheel himself to pull off. So, they ended up at a little hotel, one that Eddie was... okay with. Richie would've liked to make him more happy with it, but he actually was pretty tired -although, he made sure not to show Eddie that. Or tried to anyway (he was pretty sure Eddie could tell).

Eddie led him to book a room, hands intertwined -grabbing the keys and guiding him to the door. Richie was holding his bag, and only his on his shoulder (Eddie had told him just to bring his, "I'll just wear something of yours", he was decidedly not thinking about it). And then, they were off -tucked away into their room.

Both dressed, Richie threw himself into the bed and Eddie was going through his nighttime routine (he might have not had his bag, but he did have the 'necessities' or so he says).

Eddie was rubbing something on his face, probably a moisturizer. And Richie was watching him through the doorway -light trinkling into the room, as he leaned against the pillow. Eddie was wearing his clothes, a soft graphic tee that was a little too big on him and some gym shorts that hung too far on his legs. Richie almost fainted, but luckily he is currently, wrapped into the comforter -face peeking out (along with what he could imagine was an insane amalgamation of hair on his head).

"Eds," Richie called, sing-songy, "-Spaghetti, Eds, Eddie baby-"

Eddie snapped to him, face glistening with whatever he was putting onto it, "What, dickweed?"

Richie didn't say a word, just extending his hands forward and opening and closing them into fists. Grabby hands, like a toddler when they wanted to be picked up.

Eddie stared at him -blankly, he tried to keep his lips in a frown but Richie saw them quirk up.

"Are you serious?" Eddie spoke -flatly (or trying to be).

Richie ignored him doing it again, stressing out the words, "You know you wanna, Eddie baby."

Eddie laughed a little then like he couldn't help it -a flush bubbling up his skin. Big brown eyes skimming along Richie (lovingly, if he had to describe it), he tilted his head slightly to the left. Richie felt like he wanted to rip out his heart and give to Eddie. It's his anyway-

Instead of responding, Eddie turned to the sink and scrubbed at his face. Richie watched with a warm kind of smile, watching as he patted his face with a rag (his own packed one, of course). He put it back into his tiny little zipped bag that Richie somehow was cute. Because, of course, he did.

And with a breath, Eddie made his way to the bed -staring at Richie the whole way. It made Richie smile brighter.

Until he stood by the edge of the bed (the left side, naturally), brown eyes heavy on his -Richie wanted to squirm a little because he was just so... seen. Known, really. Had he ever been fucking known? Totally and completely-

Eddie stepped toward the bed, leaning forward slightly. With the gentlest of hands, he cupped Richie's face -all soft fingertips (because of course Eddie's skin was fucking soft). Richie leaned into the warm as much as he physically could, and it made a smile smooth across Eddie's face that made Richie's head spin. He just made him feel so-

Eddie interrupted his thoughts, warm (it made Richie's heart melt a little), "I love you so fucking much."

Richie grinned, brighter than before before turning his head to kiss Eddie's palm once, "I love you too, Eds."

"God," he huffed out (and it made Richie laugh), before gently taking his glasses off his face, "-You can't sleep with your fucking glasses on, dickweed."

With a breath, he turned to put them onto his, not Richie's, side's nightstand (funnily enough). Richie opened up his arms and Eddie climbed into them -unhesitantly. Richie near immediately tugged him into his chest -making Eddie giggle a little and the sound made him physically want to explode. Love, love, love, love-

Eddie turned to face him -brown eyes heavy on him. Richie must've looked a little tired because-

"We should've stopped earlier, huh," Eddie hummed, bring up his hands to trail along his face (Richie's eyes slipped shut because Eddie was Eddie and he loved him and he was touching his face).

"Maybe," Richie echoed out -not bothering to open his eyes (all he could smell was strawberry and it was fucking bliss-).

"Yeah," Eddie hummed again, maybe more passive-aggressive, "-You gonna fucking listen to me next time then?"

Richie laughed, cracking open his eyes -Eddie was close enough that he could see him (mostly), "Yes, dear."

Eddie rolled his eyes, and shoved into him -not far enough to move him anywhere (strangely, Richie didn't think he wanted him to really move at all), "Shut up and go to sleep."

"No pillow talk? No foreplay? Or, wait," Richie paused, "-what's the thing after sex?"

"First off, we didn't have sex. Secondly-" Eddie chimed back -sharply, which was in direct contrast of the way Eddie was looking at him (like he loved him so much he might die, in Richie's opinion), "-it's pillow talk, dumbass. You just said it."

"So, we can't ramble about the end of times?" Richie continued, midway yawning, "-Or the meaning of life? Or how, miraculously, Jennifer Aniston doesn't seem to actually age-"

"Maybe next time, Rich," Eddie hummed -gently, and brushed back some of his hair, "-I think you need to sleep."

"Yeah, okay," Richie breathed out, pulling Eddie impossibly closer to him -nose just above the rich smell of strawberries (he thinks he might be addicted), "-In the morning maybe?"

"Yeah," Eddie spoke, softer than Richie could comprehend then (all twinkly eyes and small little smiles), "-we can talk about it in the morning."

"Love ya, Eds," Richie hummed -low and barely there.

Eddie paused for a second, but Richie did eventually hear him say (in the loose caverns of his tired mind), "I love you too, Rich."

It didn't need to be said that Richie slept really fucking... good that night.

Now, they were stopped at a diner -eating lunch. It was actually pretty classy to be pit-stopping on a road trip, with the whole shiny floor, red accent aesthetic. Richie was crazy into it honestly, and Eddie was okay about it.

Until Richie bought him a milkshake.

Eddie was actually forcing himself to eat his chicken sandwich first. His brown eyes side-eyeing the shake sat to his right, pretty consistently. So much so that it started making Richie laugh a little.

"Eds," Richie interrupted the silence, smiling as he popped a fry into his mouth, "-just drink the milkshake."

Eddie puffed up his cheeks, flustered, "I need to fucking eat my meal first."

"Eddie baby," Richie leveled, grabbing his wrist, "-you can eat them both at the same time. No one's stopping you."

"I am," Eddie snapped back.

"Why?" Richie laughed, "-As a form of personal torture?"

"Well," Eddie paused, maybe realizing that his idea wasn't exactly... founded.

He pressed his lips together, before huffing out a breath -big brown eyes hitching on the milkshake (in a sort of wonder that made Richie just love him more), "Fine, whatever."

Eddie carefully pulled it in front of him and took a sip. His eyes widened like he was a kid trying candy for the first time. As a proper person with a sweet tooth, it was the sweetest option possible: birthday cake.

He took a breath and pushed the shake toward the middle of the table -excitedly, "Rich, try this."

Richie was insanely in love with him. So, he did.

It was almost too sweet for him, actually. Richie, despite the appearance, was really more for savory shit. Or sugar that wasn't really... sweet, if that made any sense. But otherwise, it was pretty good.

"Wow," Richie started nodding, pushing it gently back to Eddie, "-it's good, Eds."

"I know, right?" Eddie grinned, still so excited like a little kid (eyes twinkling with wonder). Richie wanted to scoop him up and never let him go, ever. Die with Eddie in his arms-

"I love you," Richie hummed, warmly.

Eddie blinked, a smile pulling onto his lips, "I love you too."

Richie blew a kiss to him -the obnoxious loud kind. Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling -the affectionate kind that Richie really only saw for him. It was a special one, for him. He kept it right next to his fucking heart-

Bzzt, bzzt.

Richie paused, shooting to his phone -quickly picking it up to check the notification.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
Tozier

you've had 3 days with him

if we don't get pictures soon you're a dead man

Richie laughed.

Eddie peeked up then, asking curiously, "Whose that?"

"Bevvy," Richie answered, "-she wants update pictures."

"Shit," Eddie responded, "-we did say we'd do that, didn't we?"

"Yup," Richie hummed, before switching to his camera and aiming it at Eddie, "-Smile, Eds!"

"What the fuck?" Eddie hissed, frown strong on his face, and motioning aggressively with his hands, "-Give me more of a fucking warning, that's not-"

Richie snapped the picture -hand motions, puffed up cheeks and all.

He grinned, and opened up the groupchat, "Perfect."

The picture was in the middle of him talking, eyebrows furrowed with his puffed-up cheeks (which were blooming a pretty pink). Hair slightly messy, and a t-shirt (that was decidedly not his) that had some sort of comic book cover on the front, Richie thought for a second that he might be the love of his life-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
attached image

Eddie frowned, opening the picture on Instagram, "Asshole."

"What?" Richie asked, smiling, "-You looked cute, Eddie baby."

"Fuck you."

And when he moved to look up at him, Eddie's phone was held up with the perfect angle of Richie (or what he assumed to be).

"You sly motherfucker," Richie laughed out -a shit eating grin swallowing his face.

Eddie smirked, putting down his phone and repeating, "Perfect."

Richie smiled, shaking his head and opening up the chat.

e.kaspbrak
attached image

He eyed it for a second.

It was him, obviously, with, surprisingly less-than-normal, messy hair and a peek of his white button-up shirt (which had tiny ketchup bottles scattered in a kind of pattern). But what he was kinda stuck on was the way he was staring. The way he was looking at Eddie.

There was just something in his eyes that he'd never quite seen before. Something fucking... twinkly. Happy. And god, he was so fucking happy. But Eddie? God, Eddie made him so fucking happy-

reddy.bevvy ✔️
AHHHHHH

you twoooo

benny.boy.official ✔️
so cute ☺️

mike.me.up ✔️
so glad to see you guys !!!

how far along are you on your trip?

big.bill ✔️
Trashmouth on a date?

Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Get me a good souvenir.

stan.the.man ✔️
You guys have really been off the radar for like 3 days.

Glad to see it's with good purpose though.

e.kaspbrak
Thanks everyone!

And we're about halfway through, Mike.

Richie flashed a grin up at him, and Eddie caught his eye too. They smiled at each other for a few seconds, and if Richie had any less dignity he'd kiss the shit out of him right then and there. But he did have dignity, tragically, so-

"Here's your check," the waiter smiled, "-Hope you guys enjoyed your meal. Any to-go boxes today?"

"Yes, yeah," Richie quickly answered, "-and can I get a to-go cup for his milkshake?"

Eddie interrupted, motioning to his cup, "There's not enough for that, Rich."

Richie eyed it for a second, before deciding, "Can I get a to-go milkshake then? It can be on a separate check if it needs to be-"

"Richie, you don't-"

"Yeah, no, of course," the waiter (he feels like he should've known their name) grabbed the check, "-and I can just update this for you. Everything will be just a second."

"Thank you," Richie chimed, and he turned to Eddie -who was frowning at him.

"You didn't have to do that," Eddie spoke, briskly, "-I already had one."

"Well, I love you and you liked it," Richie shrugged, accepting the to-go boxes handed to him (handing one to Eddie), "-Just accept it, Eds, for me. Because I want you to have it."

Eddie's lips pursed for a moment before he smiled a little, "Okay. Just this once, asshole."

"Agree to disagree, but-" Richie hummed, putting his fries and some of the appetizer into his box, "-thank you for accepting my love, Spaghetti-"

Eddie rolled his eyes, frowning at him in a way that Richie could tell was hiding a smile, "I hate you."

"Do you?" Richie raised an eyebrow, sipping from his cup and grinning.

Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line, and letting out a frustrated sigh, "No."

Richie laughed -head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut. Racking through his lungs, he felt happy tears in his eyes because fuck, he loves Eddie Kaspbrak. So, so much.

Eddie started laughing too, "You're such a dickhead-"

And in a separate groupchat, a conversation went entirely unnoticed.

big.bill ✔️
Where did they go?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
probably making out

stan.the.man ✔️
Ew.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
you're literally married ???

stan.the.man ✔️
Yeah, but they're in public.

benny.boy.official ✔️
I don't think Eddie would let Richie kiss him in public

mike.me.up ✔️
I dunno they're batshit crazy for each other

stan.the.man ✔️
We all know Eddie's all talk.

He probably actually kisses Richie more than the other way around.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
can confirm

I talk to Eddie regularly and he wanted to jump him before even meeting up

and now he can so

it is entirely possible

mike.me.up ✔️
they could have some class and be like in the bathroom or something

stan.the.man ✔️
Do you know Eddie at all?

big.bill ✔️
Yeah, you've known him way longer than me, and even I know that he wouldn't use it if he had to.

And to kiss in there? Yeah, no way.

benny.boy.official ✔️
where else though ?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
probably the car

stan.the.man ✔️
Ew. Again.

big.bill ✔️
Not all of us can be classy, Stan.

Sometimes making out in the car is just the cards you're dealt.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
exactly Bill

it's very them, and I think that's all that matters

benny.boy.official ✔️
I'm happy for them 😊

big.bill ✔️
Ditto.

They're like the only two people in the world for each other. So, I'm glad they got that.

stan.the.man ✔️
Rich is the happiest he's ever been.

I know I joke, but I'm really fucking happy for them.

mike.me.up ✔️
yeah they deserve that happiness

reddy.bevvy ✔️
I love them both so much ❤️

so glad they're together and happy

benny.boy.official ✔️
their future is so bright

so excited for them :)

mike.me.up ✔️
speaking of their future

bets on when they get engaged ?

big.bill ✔️
Isn't that a little too soon?

They're just moving in together.

stan.the.man ✔️
50 bucks for a year.

Chapter Text

"Pretty brown eyes," Richie sang, loud and dancing around the car (what he could anyway) -moving his and Eddie's intertwined hands with the music, "-Whatcha doing later tonight?"

🎵 Would you mind if I spend time with you? 🎵

"Hey, there," Richie's eyes shot to Eddie's for a second, and Eddie was rolling his eyes (affectionately), "-pretty brown eyes-"

"You're such a fucking nerd," Eddie laughed, but decidedly didn't separate their hands (he never really did, unless absolutely necessary).

Richie took the moment to pull their hands to his lips and started kissing down his arm -a little obnoxiously (as Richie Tozier would). Eddie scrunched up his nose, and it only made Richie do it more (tracing his path back up to their hands). Eddie's lips slipped into a tiny little smile that Richie wanted to physically memorize forever.

It was the beginning of the 6th day, and they would be there in a few hours. Okay, maybe a significant amount of hours, but still. Richie was so excited that he might start fucking vibrating, honestly. Eddie in his apartment, in their apartment, comfortable and happy and fucking... loved. Watching shitty TV together, eating together, Eddie co-starring in some of his streams, waking up to Eddie every fucking day. That was awesome as fuck-

"Such a fucking sap," Eddie hummed, before popping over -at the pull of his seatbelt, and kissed Richie's cheek.

Richie grinned so big that it might physically hurt if he kept it up. But he didn't care then.

"You wanna keep up the questions?" Eddie posed.

Richie hummed, "Do you?"

"Yeah," Eddie responded, pushing himself into his seat in a way that angled him toward Richie, "-I like learning shit about you."

Richie smiled, eyes flashing to him for a spare second, "Me too, Eds."

"It's your turn, dipshit," Eddie nudged him (or tried to there wasn't really space to nudge).

"Okay, um-" Richie blew a raspberry, fingers tapping along the wheel (California would start to fade in pretty soon, what the fuck), "-boring as fuck, but what is your favorite color?"

"Red," Eddie answered, easily.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows (somehow he hadn't expected that), "Really?"

"Yeah," Eddie confirmed -casually, "-I've liked it since I was little."

"I only see you in like... blue or fucking-" Richie motioned with their intertwined hands (which was not effective), "-pastels. Which I love that shit, don't get me wrong, but-"

"I know what I look good in," Eddie shrugged -passively.

"You 'look good' in anything, Eds. If you fucking want to wear red, wear it-" Richie reasoned and then suddenly paused, something fluttering through his mind (he grinned), "-Especially those little red running shorts you have-"

Eddie scrunched up his nose, "You're into my fucking sweaty running clothes?"

"Well, first off, the sweatier the better, you know what I'm saying-" Richie raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Eddie shoved him -hard (it actually kind of hurt), "-but those shorts, man. You're all fucking... leg. Muscular leg, because you fucking run-"

"You're into my legs?" Eddie furrowed his eyebrows -moving to look at Richie.

"I'm into all of you, Spaghetti," Richie quickly clarified, "-but yeah, yes. The fucking... muscles... Look, you're fucking hot as shit, okay? That's what you should take from this."

Eddie's lips quirked up, "I thought I was cute?"

"You can be both," Richie contradicted, changing lanes swiftly, "-Actually, you are both, Eds."

"Then why the fuck don't you call me hot?" Eddie replied -pointedly.

Richie answered, with ease, "Because saying you're cute makes you frustrated and/or flustered. And I fucking live off that shit."

"Huh," Eddie hummed, like he was thinking something over -planning maybe (Richie wasn't sure how he felt about it, but it did feel kinda... hot?), "-good to know. Your turn, Rich."

Fuck, Eddie was gonna tease the shit out of him now. Un-fucking-fair.

"Uh, yellow? Maybe?" Richie offered, uncertain, "-I'm kinda a... 'every color in the world' kinda guy."

"Checks out," Eddie bickered, "-with your hideous fucking shirts."

"You insult me and yet, you love the shit out of me," Richie responded, faux thoughtfully, "-Funny how that works."

"Shut up, dickweed," Eddie hissed -biting (but not really), before adding, "-My turn."

"The floor is yours, darling," Richie responded -voice taking on like a classic movie announcer (the kinds of voices that guys with cigars in old movies had, really).

Eddie rolled his eyes (Richie could honestly feel it), "What about... Your comfort show?"

"Not movie?" Richie clarified.

"No," Eddie frowned, "-That's a different question, asshat."

Richie paused, pressing his lips together, "Cliché as fuck, but probably The Office, or maybe... Always Sunny? 90 Day Fiancé? That shit's pretty good too."

"You can't decide on shit, can you?"

"Okay, okay, jeez," Richie huffed out a breath, "-Yeah, okay, The Office. You?"

"Hoarders," Eddie answered, instinctively, before continuing, quietly, "-or New Girl."

"You fucking hypocrite," Richie laughed, "-you can't pick either!"

"No, it just fucking..." Eddie puffed up his cheeks, defensive, "-depends on the day."

"What if mine depends on the day, Spaghetti?" Richie countered.

"You had three options, anyway," Eddie pointed out, "-That's more than me."

"By one," Richie quickly commented, still laughing, "-Whatever, Eds, you win. On a serious note, though, New Girl is funny as shit."

"Obviously I know that, dickwad," Eddie snapped back, "-It's my comfort show. I've rewatched it like 3 fucking times."

"Favorite character?" Richie posed, curiously.

Eddie followed up, "This the next question?"

"Sure," Richie said -passively, thumb dancing along the back of Eddie's hand, "-if you want it to be."

"Honestly, all of them are pretty good," Eddie echoed, like he gaining a train of thought, "-but Nick. Jess is up there though."

"Really?" Richie tapped his fingers along the wheel, "-I'm more of a Schmidt guy myself."

"'Course you are," Eddie replied, knowingly, before continuing, "-What about The Office?"

"That's a really fucking tough one," Richie blew out a breath, "-Probably Creed."

"Not Dwight?" Eddie questioned, curiously.

Richie conceded, "Close second. Or maybe just depends on my mood. Let's just say both, actually. What about you, Eds? Your Office beau."

"Beau? Who the fuck says beau?" Eddie scrunched up his nose (Richie wanted to kiss it, as he always did).

"People who are clever about pet names, Eddie baby," Richie hummed -eyeing the exit number on the GPS quickly.

Eddie questioned, near immediately, "That's an actual fucking... pet name?"

"Yeah," Richie explained, passively, "-it's like 'boyfriend'. A fucking... male partner."

"It's gendered?" Eddie followed up, before adding, "-How the fuck do you know that?"

"I don't know if you could tell, Eds," Richie laughed, stressing the name, "-but I am fucking... passionate about pet names. Or maybe nicknames in general but same thing."

"You do that for all your boyfriends?" Eddie asked -almost disappointed somehow (no way that was happening).

"No, it's mostly just my friends, actually," Richie clarified, "-When I was dating somebody it was really only fucking... babe. I would try every once in a while, but it never really... stuck. Not like with you."

"So, you've never had like-" Eddie paused, trying to think of the words maybe, "-a fucking... dictionary of pet names for any other boyfriend?"

"Nope," Richie popped the 'p', "-You are a very special case, my dear Spaghetti. Plus, it helps that you actually allow them."

"I don't fucking 'allow' them," Eddie scrunched up his eyebrows -frowning, "-I love them. It's not like I fucking hate them and let you get away with it."

"Yeah, but-" Richie reasoned, "-they are kinda cheesy. I'd probably get sick of them-"

"I won't," Eddie spoke, sturdily (and it made Richie's lips snap shut so quickly that his jaw clicked), "-I like that they're fucking cheesy. It's so... personal."

"How?" Richie questioned, shooting a glance at Eddie (his face was currently very set and determined, or how he got when he felt like he needed to defend his side of something).

"It's... They're yours," Eddie explained, less pointedly, "-I'm not anyone else's fucking... 'Eds', I'm yours. It's like a whole different section of me. Just for you-"

Richie blinked.

"-And I like that shit. That there's a part of me that's Richie's 'Eds' or... or 'Spaghetti', or whatever the fuck you decide that day."

Richie blinked again, saying softly, "Oh."

Eddie's head seemed to turn toward him then, curiously (out of the corner of Richie's eye), and his eyes skimmed along his face. There was a bit of splotchy red crawling up his collar now, and Eddie was most certainly eyeing it.

"I said something stupidly simple that meant a lot to you, didn't I?"

"Maybe," Richie said, low -embarrassed, if he was honest.

Eddie squeezed his hand once.

"It's just-" Richie felt the need to explain (Steve chiming in his head, 'Keep your communication open, Richie. With the right person, it will prevent more problems from happening. Not cause them.'), "-Like I said, no one ever really liked that shit. They wanted me to fucking... cut it out. But you, you do. And there's a part of you that's 'my Eds', and... I don't know, it's just... It's just you fucking valuing me, again. When... When other people haven't, I guess."

Eddie paused, and Richie could feel his eyes flick along his face -processing (thinking maybe), "You're worth the fucking world, Rich. You know that, right?"

Richie thought on it for a second, all that Eddie said, what the Losers said, what Steve said-

"I'm-" he let out a sigh, pressing his lips together, "-I'm getting there."

Eddie hummed, soft and gentle -bringing up their intertwined hands and kissing them (more tenderly than Richie thought he'd ever felt in his entire fucking life), "I know. I'm so fucking proud of you."

Fuck.

Richie pressed his lips together, frankly ignoring the burning in the backs of his eyes, "You asshole."

Eddie laughed, but still, spoke very carefully (fucking... tenderly), "Are you going to cry?"

"Fucking yeah," he stressed the word, voice picking up in speed, "-you can't just say you're fucking proud of me when I'm driving and I can barely see shit anyway-"

"Rich," Eddie spoke, gently but somehow sternly, "-pull over."

Richie let out a big breath, and it kinda hitched in his chest, "Yeah, okay."

He did so, diligently -the car strangely quiet (except for the ever-so-slight sniffles coming from the driver's seat).

Richie took a moment, shaking a breath of out his lungs -trying to calm himself down. Steve gave him a few coping... things, something about breathing-

Eddie slowly pulled his hand out of Richie's, and he snapped to him at the motion. He really fucking wanted to hold Eddie's hand right now-

"C'mon," Eddie spoke, gently -moving to open his car door.

Richie blinked, "What?"

"Get in the backseat with me," Eddie clarified, not fully out of the door (like he was waiting for Richie to move too), "-C'mon."

"We-" Richie sputtered for a second, swallowing down what felt like lead in his throat, "-What about the trip? We'll lose-"

"Richie."

Richie skimmed over him for a second (all soft and certain, a beautiful contradiction -in his mind anyway). And Eddie stared right back at him, still in his place. Almost like he wanted Richie to read all the fucking... love on his face, and the softness and how much he fucking cared. Because, god, he really fucking did-

He let out a big breath and turned in his own seat -getting out of the car.

Not long after he pulled the back door open, Eddie carefully pulled him inside. Richie kinda felt like clay as Eddie seemed to move on a mission (he pulled him forward, Richie diligently moved forward). Eventually, somehow, Eddie was sat up against the door (which Eddie took the keys and ensured were locked) -legs splayed onto the backseat, and then, he motioned Richie forward.

He was a little slow to move toward him, but he did, and the first thing Eddie did was pull off Richie's glasses (popping them into a nearby cup holder). Richie really couldn't tell anything from there, but he felt Eddie's hands pull him forward gently -soft fingertips against his shoulders. Until he was against a warm sturdy surface, heartbeat thrumming into his ear (his chest, his mind mindlessly noted), and felt Eddie intertwine their legs. And then, as a final motion, his arms came to meet around Richie's body.

Richie pressed his lips together, Eddie was fucking... holding him. Holding him. Like he was precious, like Eddie wanted to be careful, like Eddie wanted him to be safe. And fuck, he'd never felt so fucking safe, or... or loved so fucking much-

His eyes started to blur. Fuck.

Almost as if he could tell, Eddie's hand moved to smooth along Richie's back, saying -in a low voice, just for him to hear, "I really am proud of you, Rich. You're doing so fucking good."

Richie inhaled a shaky breath.

"And I know-" Eddie breathed out, "-I know you're still scared that maybe I'm some dick just like all the other assholes you've dated-"

Richie laughed a little.

"-or that I'm not gonna stick around and that's... that's okay. It's not gonna just fucking... go away. So, don't blame yourself for that. I just..."

There was a pause.

"I wanna make sure you know-" Eddie continued, slowly -one of his hands moving to thread into his hair, "-even if I have to tell you every day, that I love the shit out of you and no matter what your stupid fucking brain thinks... I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

Richie sniffled, the whirling of his mind lowering to a buzz -a warm buzz. The smell of strawberries around him, and the pressing warmth of Eddie's skin against his own, he felt much calmer. No more old boyfriends or parents or any of that shit, just him and Eddie in the back of his car. Eddie, who loved the shit out of him, and Richie, who (unsurprisingly enough) loved the shit out of Eddie too.

"I love you too, Eds," he muttered against the cotton of his shirt, "-a lot."

Eddie didn't say anything then, just threading through his hair and thumbing over his skin with his other hand -careful touches. Soothing touches that were maybe made just for Richie in mind (like they were a manufactured superhero weakness or something -his kryptonite, if you will). Richie felt something smooth off of him - and emotion sliding away from the tension of his shoulders. Less overwhelming, as Eddie's hand scratched his scalp and completely wrapped around Richie. It felt like his own little safe space in the world, where nobody could see him except for Eddie.

He let out another breath, less shaky, and with no tears now -heart in his chest slowed. Sniffling once, he made no motion to move at all but he felt better, a lot better. Because it's Eddie. And, of course, Eddie made him feel better. Because he loved him and cared about him so fucking much that it shook Richie's bones-

"Jim," Eddie spoke, suddenly -hand still combing through Richie's hair.

"Hmm?" Richie hummed, almost tired in a way.

"My favorite Office character," Eddie clarified, "-It's Jim."

Richie laughed a bit, "Of course it is."

Eddie pulled Richie's face up -leveling it to his, and frowning, "Are you making fun of me, asshole?"

"You made fun of me about Schmidt," Richie pointed out, "-We're even now."

Eddie's frown quirked up into a smile, hands gently on both sides of his face -holding him there (not unlike the first time they physically met). And his eyes skimmed all of Richie's face, affectionately (lovingly really), and the whole thing made Richie's head spin because it was so consuming. Eddie's love swallowed him whole.

And then, Eddie pulled Richie's face forward and kissed him. It wasn't like a signature Eddie Kaspbrak kiss, not all yearning and desperate and passionate, it was... slower. More careful. Like Richie was precious to him, precious in general, and he wanted him to know that. Wanted him to feel the love that pulsed out of his skin for Richie, wanted to cacoon him into it like a warm bubble of affection. And Richie thought he could fucking die there, happily.

They kissed for awhile then (Richie would even say that they most certainly made out in the back of his car -dream scenario accomplished, what the fuck). And it did, in fact, make their arrival time a little bit later, more like dinner time instead of a late lunch. But, Richie frankly wouldn't change fucking anything and he got the feeling Eddie wouldn't either. So, he didn't feel bad or guilty about it and Eddie wouldn't let him.

Now, they were in San Francisco -buildings upon buildings that were in essence a little more rustic than the sleek metal of New York. That being said, some parts were all sleek metal, just not really too much where Richie lived.

Richie was completely in his element, navigating through lanes and streets like it was routine. Because it was. They were so fucking close that it almost made his hands shake, just like when he was close to meeting Eddie -anxiety prickling his skin. Because god, him and Eddie. Living together. Their apartment. Richie had a wonderful fucking boyfriend and he loved him and he was going to be there every day-

"Are you thinking too much again?" Eddie broke him out of his head -suddenly. Richie really was a wanderer in terms of thoughts. Dissociation's a bitch, am I right?

"No, I'm just-" Richie wanted to physically bounce up and down, "-I'm excited as shit."

"Yeah," Eddie laughed a little, softer, "-me too."

Richie grinned so wide it hurt and tapped his free foot against the floor of the car -anxiously. He squeezed Eddie's hand a few times, eager maybe, and it made Eddie laugh.

God, Richie wanted to make him laugh forever.

"My dear Eds, we are like a minute away," Richie chimed, like an announcer -naturally.

Eddie's eyes shot to the windows, "Shit, really?"

There was an assortment of things by Richie's apartment, cafés, little stores, and restaurants. He'd hit a few of them, either by himself or with Bev, but not enough. He never really had a purpose to explore, really; his job was streaming and all he'd had was Bev so it never... He'd never really had the motivation or reason to. But now, with Eddie, he could show him shit -experience it with hum. He had all the reasons now-

"It's really nice here," Eddie hummed, big brown eyes bubbling along the streets and the buildings -almost in wonder, "-What the fuck."

Richie laughed, "We can look around when we get there if you want."

"Maybe later," Eddie's thumb rubbed along Richie's skin (it made his brain fuzzy), "-I think we should stay home today."

Home, home, home, home-

"Whatever you want, Eddie baby," Richie grinned, and felt his heart flutter in his chest (our home).

"You know, sometimes-" Eddie offered, eyes all along the windows, "-I wanna know what you want, dipshit."

"You," Richie answered, instinctively, "-Anything with you is sick as shit to me."

Eddie's eyes flicked to Richie's face -skimming over it, "Yeah, well, you ever think it might be the same for me, fuckface?"

"Yeah?" Richie hummed, eyeing the roads -his turn was right fucking there.

"Of course," Eddie leveled, looking at him straightforwardly, "-I love the fuck out of you."

Richie grinned like he always did (he loves me), "I love you too, Eds."

It was, as he had said, a few minutes later and he was pulling into the parking lot. Where he always parked, and Richie was hit with the fact that he was finally here. Home. Right back to his apartment, his office, and he was with Eddie. With Eddie-

"This is it?" Eddie asked, curiously -big eyes blinking up at the stretch of building.

"Yes, sir," Richie chimed, maybe nervously, "-we are here."

Eddie laughed a little, freehand fidgeting with their intertwined ones, "Holy shit."

Richie started laughing too, repeating, "Holy shit."

"Well," Eddie tugged at his hand, grinning at him in a way that made his heart twirl, "-let's go then, asshole. What the fuck are we waiting for?"

So, they immediately started moving. Eddie nearly running inside the building with his suitcase. It should be said that Richie is all about... 'being a gentleman' but Eddie was a strong little fucker. Working out and shit. And Eddie was distinctly terrified of elevators, so if he wanted to carry his shit up the stairs -Richie wasn't going to combat him. He could always help with the boxes later-

"You're so fucking slow," Eddie laughed -pulling himself up the stairs -eagerly, if Richie was honest.

"You know how many trips we have to make, Eds?" Richie countered, "-Ya wanna tire yourself out on the first one?"

Eddie's lips flattened into a frown, just above Richie on the floor between stairs -looking at him like he knew he was right (and he hated it), "Shut up."

"Don't worry, Spaghetti," Richie hummed meeting him up on the floor -smoothing his hand down his arm (and taking on a superhero sort of superhero voice), "-I'll carry you up here myself if I have to."

"You could not fucking do that," Eddie disagreed.

"You wanna bet?" Richie questioned -raising an eyebrow.

Eddie paused for a second, smoothly eyeing him from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes. It made Richie squirm a little.

Finally, he winked (Jesus fuck), and smiled coyly, "Maybe later."

It took everything in his body not to fall right then and there. His knees went a little wobbly, and he thanked god that he was holding onto the railing. Face blossoming a bright red, Richie watched as Eddie eyed it -grin bubbling bright along his face. So fucking beautiful-

"Now, come on, asshole," Eddie groaned, nearly jumping in place impatiently, "-we've got so much shit to do."

Richie stayed put.

"You're such a shithead. Fine," Eddie huffed, "-I'll make out with you on the couch if you-"

He pushed past Eddie with a sense of urgency he hadn't felt in a long, fucking time. He heard Eddie burst into laughter behind him, and even resisted the urge to look back at him.

He was a simple man, what could he say?

It should be said, it took them like 2 hours to bring all the boxes up. Well, Richie was finishing now, actually. By himself. Eddie was a quick fucker, and Richie, well, adrenaline only worked for so long. So, he was taking his time -measuring out breaths.

When he did finally reach the door, everything in his body was relieved.

"Jesus Christ, Eds," Richie exhaled, slowly putting back the boxes, "-What did you put in these things? Bricks by the fucking pound?"

"You took fucking ages," Eddie breathed out, impatiently (maybe even a little frustrated).

"Well, yeah," Richie slowly straightened, turning toward him, "-We've been doing this for hours, ya gotta give a man a bre-"

Eddie cut him off by literally jumping into him -fully legs wrapped around him and arms around his neck style. Richie almost stumbled back and tripped over the fucking boxes-

"Jesus fucking Christ-" Richie tried, aiming to look at his footing. Instead, Eddie kissed him -knocking the air out of his lungs.

And despite the fact that there was an ache in Richie's arms, he situated them to hold him up with ease.

The way Eddie was kissing him was new. Well, not completely new, actually. It was, at its core, a trademark Eddie Kaspbrak kiss. All passionate and grabby and like he'd been waiting years, or maybe like it was some build-up romance scene and they had finally confessed after years of friendship. But it was also... like desperate and feverish and quick. Richie would try to describe it more, but his brain was turning to goo because he was just so-

Fuck, Richie knew where this was going.

"Eds," he tried (kiss), "-Spaghetti," he tried again (kiss), "-Eddie baby-"

Eddie finally pulled back, eyes a fiery steel, most certainly frustrated, "What, Richie?"

Richie blinked at him a few times, Eddie Kaspbrak pissed that he had to stop kissing him. God, he was definitely fucking dreaming-

"Look, I know where this is going, and believe me, I'm a big fucking fan of it, but-" Richie explained, "-I gotta get a picture of you to post."

"Right now?" Eddie whined, and Richie felt a little like he could die happy.

Richie almost swayed (god, Eddie Kaspbrak turned him to mush), "Yes, yeah. I wanna get it over with, so I don't forget."

"I won't let you forget," Eddie offered.

"Eds," Richie leveled.

"Jesus fuck," Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes and dropping down, "-Fine."

"It'll just be a second, Eddie baby," Richie hummed, apologetically (because Eddie wanted to kiss the shit out of him, fuck), "-I promise."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but Richie could see the tension in him relax, "Whatever, asshole."

"Alright," Richie pulled up his camera, and pulled Eddie into his side -maybe moving a little quickly (who's to say really), "-3, 2, 1, cheese!"

Richie turned to press a kiss on Eddie's cheek and pressed the button -he could definitely feel Eddie loosen up then.

His eyes caught on the photo for a second, eyeing it. It was Richie, hair still mostly shiny and new, kissing Eddie's cheek -who, in the picture, was shriveling up his nose and frowning. His freckles were already peaking through from the sun of their trip. Richie wanted to connect them with his fingers like constellations-

"Richie."

"Jeez, yeah, okay-" Richie laughed, opening up Instagram and clicking on 'new post'.

After perfectly framing it, Richie thought over some captions fairly quickly (Eddie was literally tapping his foot like a disappointed mother). He wanted to laugh at it, but felt like it wasn't the right time. And then, he got it.

'just picked up some takeout: 🍝,' he typed, before adding, '-#eddiespaghetti'.

He laughed for a second, and then posted it. Eddie must have been eyeing him like a hawk because-

He intertwined their hands and tugged it so hard that his phone flew to the floor -immediately walking forward.

"Hey-" Richie spoke, a little defensive.

Eddie ignored him, "Which way?"

"You're just gonna go straight into it, Spaghetti," Richie joked, "-I thought we had a little more class than th-"

Eddie kissed him -hard. And then, with a breath between them, repeated.

"I asked which way, asshole?"

Richie blinked, answering -with a squeaky sort of voice, "To the left."

He didn't hesitate, dragging Richie down the hallway. And Richie felt like he might fucking faint. But luckily, if he was, Eddie was there to catch him. Eddie, in his apartment, in their apartment. Waking up to Eddie, seeing Eddie everyday-

Eddie kissed him, and Richie couldn't really think of anything else.

Chapter Text

Richie woke up to a hand on his arm -shaking him. He blearily tried to blink away the blur of sleep in his eyes.

"Richie, hey," a voice whispered out, soft and maybe scratchy, "-wake up."

He hummed, scratching at the collar of his shirt and stretching his arms out.

"R-Rich," Eddie, he realized Eddie -my Eddie, spoke, and his voice was shaking.

Richie near immediately shot up, grabbing his glasses on pure instinct.

"Eds?" He slid them on the bridge of his nose, and snapped his eyes around the room (Eddie was distinctly not beside him in the bed), and then, they caught on him.

Eddie was beside the bed, standing with his arms wrapped around himself protectively. Defensive, protecting himself, Richie could see that much. Gnawing at his lip, his hair was ruffled (like he had run his hands through it a little too much), and his eyes were shiny like... like-

Richie pulled himself up, scooted to sit at the end of their bed, and slid onto his feet -in one fluid motion. So quick that it made him dizzy for a second, it didn't last for long though (Eddie instincts kicking into gear).

"Hey, woah," he slid his arms down Eddie's arms -moving his head slightly to catch his eyes, "-hey, what's going on?"

Eddie's breath hitched in his chest, eyes only shining brighter, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up, but I just-"

"Eds, no," Richie cut him off instantly, hands moving to hold Eddie's face -so he couldn't look away, "-don't do that. No. Wake me up every time. Do you know how much I would fucking hate you going through something alone?"

Eddie stared at him for a second, something smoothing along his features.

"I'm sorry," he finally spoke, shaky and quiet -tears slipping from his eyes (Richie felt his heart twist in his chest).

"Eddie baby, stop," Richie leveled, thumbs rubbing away at his eyes -diligently, "-Don't apologize for shit. There's no reason to, okay?"

Eddie let out a breath, slower, "Okay."

"Now," Richie kept his hands on Eddie's shoulders -ducking his head to catch his eyes, "-what's going on?"

Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line, and Richie's eyes flicked along his face in entirety. Trying to read anything. All he could get was... hurt, and it felt like a knife stabbed into his chest that he didn't know why-

"I don't know how-" Eddie started, and his breath was picking up, "-It doesn't make any sense, she shouldn't have fucking-"

"Eds, breathe," Richie tried to gain his attention, but Eddie kept going.

"-seen it. There was nothing but my fucking face, but she did. And Richie, she found me. She fucking found me-"

"Eds," Richie tried again, stepping to the side to try and gain his eye (his breaths were puffing through his lungs too quickly and his brain was burning with soothe, soothe, soothe).

"-I can't. I never wanted this to happen, Rich. I never fucking wanted to see her again-"

"Eddie," he finally pulled Eddie to face him -snapping his attention, "-breathe, baby."

Eddie blinked once, and swallowed -inhaling through his nose, sharply.

"Okay, now out," Richie hummed -gently, keeping Eddie's eyes on him, "-breathe out from your mouth."

The breath slunk out of Eddie's lips, catching just a little. Eddie frowned like he'd failed in some way.

"That's okay, Eddie baby, don't worry about it," Richie soothed, "-Let's do it again. In," he inhaled, "-out," he exhaled, "-in," he inhaled, "-out," he exhaled.

They stayed like that for a while, until Eddie's breaths evened out and the tension in his shoulders dropped. Richie watched, until he relaxed -as much as he could, anyway. He let his hands smooth down Eddie's arms and then back up -reassuring. He wasn't going to let go until Eddie told him to.

"Okay," Richie spoke, softly, "-now, talk to me."

Eddie took a deep breath in and just stared at Richie -big brown eyes swirling with things that made him want to scoop him into his arms forever. Protect him. Forever-

"My Mom."

Richie blinked once, a little confused. And then he remembered. The post. Fuck-

"She found the post?" Richie asked -cautiously (guilt sinking into his stomach).

Eddie nodded -lips into a tight frown. A real one, Richie wanted to see him smile.

"Fuck," Richie frowned, "-I'm sorry. I didn't think about that-"

"Richie, no," Eddie interrupted this time, voice rattling out of his throat (scared and shaky but also stubborn and certain), "-I want this. I want you. I just, I didn't fucking think of her seeing it. And it's... She won't stop messaging me-"

"What?" Richie furrowed his eyebrows.

"I told you, she found me, I don't-"

Richie extended his hand forward, "Can I see?"

Eddie pressed his lips together, thinking for a second. Richie patiently waited. (He'd probably wait forever for Eddie if he had to. For anything he wanted. He'd wait.)

With a shaky breath, Eddie unlocked it and placed it into Richie's waiting hand.

He held it there for a second, almost offering him an out (Eddie remained entirely certain), before pulling it to his eyes.

soniakaspbrak
Eddie, you don't know how hard it was to find you. My only son, do you understand?

You're my only child and you've left me. You ran away. You've left me helpless, Eddie.

I'm sick. The doctors say it's serious. Serious enough to be concerned. I can't take care of myself.

You're just going to let your own mother die alone? That's not my Eddie.

That's not my baby boy.

Think of your father, he'd want you here with me. Don't disappoint him.

Richie frowned. What the fuck-

soniakaspbrak
You can still come back. You can apologize and come back, I'm your mother, I'll forgive you.

You should be grateful that I still love you with what you've done to me. But I'm your mother, I'll always love you. Do you understand that, Eddie?

I love you much more than that boy ever could. You should know that. That boy will leave you alone, Eddie-bear. He won't care about you forever, not like I will.

Richie felt like he was burning alive, something biting up his throat. The messages kept piling up, one after another. What the fuck-

His eyes shot to Eddie (who was looking right back at him), fidgeting with his fingernails -picking at his cuticles. Richie immediately caught it, but he had to do something first.

"Eds," Richie leveled, "-Can I block her?"

Eddie gnawed at his lips.

"You don't need to hear this shit," Richie spoke, sturdily, "-but if you don't want me to, tell me, and I won't."

Eddie just stared at him, blinking. Looking at him like he was a little lost and Richie was the only thing he recognized. His bottom lip quivered, but Richie didn't move, not yet.

He took a deep, shaky breath in, "Yeah, do it."

Richie didn't hesitate, turning to the phone and blocking the account. With a quick motion, he turned off Eddie's phone -leaving it in his hand for a second.

"Can I hold onto this for now?" Richie asked, gently.

Eddie eyed it for a moment, before nodding, "Please."

Richie pocketed it, without a moment to waste. Stepping forward and gently extending his arms out, a question unspoken hanging in the air.

Eddie's eyes flicked between Richie's face and his chest (over and over). His lip quivered, and Richie watched his eyes start to get teary (something flared in Richie's stomach -god, he hated that Eddie had to deal with this). And then, he rushed forward into Richie -shoving his face into his chest and wrapping his arms tight around his body, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt.

Richie near immediately wrapped him up in his arms -like a shell, protective.

"I just-" Eddie breathed into his chest -teary and shaky (Richie dropped his head to kiss his forehead), "-I actually fucking... feel guilty. Even though she hurt me, I still... I know I shouldn't-"

Richie cut him off, moving a hand up to rub up and down his back (gently scrape of his fingertips), "There's no shouldn't, Eddie baby. It just means you care. You care so fucking much and that's good. So fucking good."

Eddie didn't say a word.

"You have the biggest heart I've ever seen Eds," Richie hummed, before adding, "-Well, maybe except for Ben, but he's like a fucking... angel that fell to earth-"

Eddie laughed a little bit, and Richie felt it thrum though his chest. Good.

"-Other than that, you're the biggest heart I've ever seen. You chew people out because you care, and that's an odd fucking thing, yeah, but still good. Great, even."

Eddie sniffled, and burrowed himself further into him -Richie tightened his hold, ever-so-slightly at the movement (because it felt like he needed it, and Richie would give him anything he could).

"I don't think-" Eddie's words were soft, spoken into the fabric of his shirt, "-Even if I did what she asked, she'd still... I could never be enough, Rich, never. No matter how hard I try-"

He moved instinctively, pulling his hands back to gently pull Eddie's face to his.

"Don't say that, Eds," he leveled, and his big brown eyes blinked up at him, "-you are enough. You'll always be enough for the people that matter, okay?"

Eddie was just staring at him, in a way that Richie was slowly grasping. Like he was fucking stranded in the ocean, and Richie was the lighthouse that guided him back. Or really just like... like he needed him. Not wanted him, because he was going through something, no, he needed him.

The thought rattled through Richie's head (Eddie needs you), and something in him steeled. Imma take care of you, Eds. I promise.

Richie brushed one of his hands through the side of his hair -combing it down with a smooth motion (Eddie leaned into it and Richie wanted to cry a little), "Like Bev, and Ben, and Mike, and Bill, and even fucking Stan. They care so much about you, so fucking much, and that's not even counting me-"

Eddie sniffled once, but his lips were smoothing into a smile -Richie wanted to keep it there.

"-I love you and care about you more than you will ever know."

Eddie's eyes were teary again, but Richie thought it might be for a better reason now.

"So, maybe," Richie continued, eyes solid on Eddie's (with one hand wiping away tears and the other threading through his hair), "-you're not enough for her. But you are enough for the Losers. And you're more than fucking enough for me. I'm stoked every day that you're in my life, Eddie Kaspbrak, with your big doe-eyes, and your huge fucking heart, and your sexy ass legs-"

Eddie laughed then and brought up a hand to shove at him -not hard at all, but Richie still took it as a good sign.

"In all seriousness," Richie took a breath, and Eddie followed his every move, "-you're safe and away from her, but sometimes shit like this still comes back, and that's okay. Ya wanna know why?"

Eddie responded, slowly, "Why?"

"Because I'm going to be right fucking here to remind you that you are safe," Richie hummed, moving to press a kiss onto his forehead, "-and cared for-" his nose, "-and loved-" his lips (the simplest little peck, just to show he was here), "-and whatever other shit you need from me."

There was a pause, as Eddie looked up at him with a hazy, affectionate sort of gaze. And then, he gently raised his own hands, brush his fingertips along the sides of Richie's face. A little like he was marveling at a sculpture or something, just in awe. (In awe? Of me? Fuck-).

"Thanks," Eddie finally said after a moment.

"Don't even," Richie smiled, and Eddie followed with his own, "-You know I don't take that shit."

"Doesn't mean I can't say it," Eddie pointed out, dropping his hands and wiping at his eyes (not unlike how a toddler would when they're tired). Richie caught it near immediately.

"You wanna go back to sleep now?" He questioned, softly.

Eddie eyed him for a second, thoughtfully.

"Actually," he started, maybe a little flustered, "-I have a weird... fucking request, I guess."

"Kinky," Richie slipped out with a shit-eating grin.

Eddie frowned, puffing out his cheeks and swatting at his chest, "Not like that, asshole. Just fucking..."

He fell silent, and dropped his gaze.

Richie gently put a finger under his chin -tilting his face back up to look at him again, and Eddie did so. Blinking at him a few times.

"Eds, c'mon," Richie soothed, "-I'm not gonna fucking judge you, not really. I wanna do it, just tell me what I'm doing."

Eddie's lips pressed into a thin line, and he pulled Richie's hand down (like it was bothering him), "I can't think when you did shit like that."

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Shit like what?"

"I don't know, just fucking-" Eddie huffed out, and Richie watched the red flame up his cheeks, "-that. Grabbing my chin between two fingers like that. It's just, I don't know, it's... like sly and smooth and fucking... confident, and that's..."

"Hot?" Richie asked, smirking.

"Stop it," Eddie pursed his lips together, eyes dropping to his lips for a split second, "-You're doing this shit on purpose, you asshole."

"Maybe a little," Richie confessed, before continuing, "-but seriously, Eds, what do you want me to do? No more funny business, I swear."

Eddie raised an questioning eyebrow.

Richie added, "Cross my heart and-"

"Don't," Eddie cut him off, sharply.

"Noted," Richie paused, before Eddie wiped at his eyes again, "-Eddie baby, come on, tell me what I need to do. You need to sleep. You're tired, I can tell."

Eddie huffed out a breath, "Are you going to make fun of me?"

"Not if you don't want me to," Richie answered -honestly.

There was a pause.

"Can you-" Eddie started, nervously, before sighing and starting again, "-Can you lay on top of me? Like with your head on my chest?"

Richie paused, rolling it over in his head -before carefully proceeding, "Why?"

"It's like... pressure or some shit," Eddie rambled a little -flustered, "-I think it might help me... calm down."

"Like a weighted blanket?" Richie asked -cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, yes, exactly-" Eddie concurred, speaking a little anxiously (hand motions peeking their head out) "-I never... had one of those, but I've heard that it... that it helps. Is that... okay?"

Richie answered near instantly, soothing, "Of course, Eds. I said I'd do anything for you, I'm a man of my word, Spaghetti-"

"But if you don't want to-" Eddie tried.

"Eddie baby," Richie held onto his shoulders, "-I want to, okay?"

Eddie's eyes flickered along his face, maybe trying to see if he was lying (which he was not). Seriously, Richie was a clingy motherfucker and to sleep on top of Eddie? Sounds like fucking paradise-

"Okay," he finally said.

"Alright," Richie smiled, pushing him back slightly, "-you lay down while I put my shit up. Well, our shit up, because it's my glasses and your phone-"

"I know, Rich," Eddie laughed, pulling himself up onto the bed and laying there -more to the middle than anywhere else (Richie guessed he didn't have to worry much about space).

Pulling his glasses off, Richie placed the phone on the, now blurry, nightstand. After making sure it was not on the fucking edge, he slowly moved onto the bed.

He could virtually feel where Eddie was, but otherwise, he was a blur. A beautiful blur, Richie would say, but very much a blur.

"Are you sure I'm not gonna crush you?" Richie asked -somewhat genuinely.

"That's the whole point, dumbass," Eddie sighed, grabbing Richie's arms and tugging him forward with a huff, "-I have to do fucking everything-"

Richie let himself be guided, it was kinda easy with Eddie. He knew exactly what he wanted, and just fucking... took direction. So, he never really had to worry about 'what Eddie wants' because he always just... said that shit. Or, well, guided Richie to do it -such as now.

And he did so.

He pulled Richie up by the shoulders until his head landed right by Eddie's heartbeat -the thrum of it buzzing through his mind (it was so fucking calming). Richie could feel Eddie's jaw brush against his forehead, as he diligently moved Richie's arm -moving his hand to wrap over his shoulder. Finally, Eddie intertwined their legs. Like it was all perfectly pieced together, like he'd thought about this. And frankly, Richie wouldn't be surprised if he had-

"Are you comfortable?" Eddie asked, attentively (he loves me).

Richie (who was currently entranced by the smell of strawberries, the beat of Eddie's heart beneath his ear, and his body heat thrumming against his own) answered, "The most I think I have ever fucking been, Eds."

"Yeah?" Eddie laughed (it rumbled through Richie's head), but it broke into a yawn, "-Me too. I feel... I feel a lot calmer."

"Good," Richie hummed, moving his head to place a kiss on his chest (right onto his heart), before nuzzling back down.

Eddie giggled that time, the trademark 'tired Eddie' giggle. Richie was fucking pumped he got to hear it in person now, he was kinda in love with it honestly. All soft and sweet, and made Richie feel like he could fly to the moon.

"Goodnight, Eddie baby," Richie smiled, and he could feel Eddie's breaths slow -calm and routine.

"Night, Rich," he hummed, sleep-slurred and barely awake (it made Richie's heart sing), "-I love you."

Richie grinned, leaning up to leave a gentle kiss on his jaw, "I love you too, Eds. So much."

"So much," Eddie repeated, far away and distant -very much on his way to dream-central.

He waited until he heard his tiny snores before he dared to close his eyes. Just in case. But, when he finally did, Richie Tozier was out like a light.

The next morning, Richie, naturally, wanted to go all out. So, after a few minutes of playfully not moving when Eddie wanted him to (which ended up in a lot of bribery kisses, as planned), he finally pulled himself out of bed.

Before he could get very far, Eddie wrapped himself around Richie's middle. It made Richie stumble back a second, and he grinned.

"Ya need your Richie fill, Eds?" he laughed, but still moved his hands to wrap around him.

"You smell good," Eddie muttered, a little muffled into Richie's shirt.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Do I?"

"Mhm," Eddie hummed, and it made Richie feel warm all over (love, love, love).

"I don't have any cologne or shit though," Richie explained, "-I just woke up, I'm probably fucking sweaty if anything-"

Eddie pulled back, looking at Richie -cheeks puffed up and a frown smoothed across his lips, "You're so fucking disgusting."

"Am I?" Richie teased, "-You seemed to fucking like the way my sweat smells, and I'm-"

"Shut up, asshole," Eddie shoved into him -hard, and Richie actually stumbled a bit (he was laughing his ass off at the current moment), "-I hate you."

"Wow, cool the dirty talk, Eds," Richie pretended to fan himself, suggestively raising his eyebrows, "-we may not make it out of this bedroom-"

"Shut up," Eddie repeated -shoving him again, but his lips were quirking up (so fucking beautiful).

"Hey," Richie shrugged it off, "-you're the one holding me hostage. I only get worse with time, you should definitely know that by now."

Eddie rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath. Doing a signature Kaspbrak move, he pulled Richie down by the collar and kissed him (the passionate, yearning, Eddie kind). For what reason? Richie couldn't tell you, but he wanted to know, personally, so he could do it again-

And then, he pulled back. Big brown eyes staring up at him -affectionate, soft, and syrupy, it made him want to scream. In a good way though, just so many emotions that all you can do is react. If that makes any sense.

Richie grinned, eyes lingering around Eddie's face, "Now we really aren't going to make it out of here."

"You're fucking infuriating," Eddie huffed out a breath, "-Let's just fucking go. What are we even doing?"

"I'm gonna feed you, my dear Eds," Richie hummed, kissing Eddie's cheek and guiding him into the kitchen (by intertwining their hands).

Eddie paused, asking somewhat genuinely, "You're going to cook?"

He pulled him onto the tile and turned to him, connecting their eyes -grinning, "You betcha."

"Can I-" Eddie started, before pausing -big brown eyes blinking up at him (they seriously could make him do literally fucking anything), "-Can I help you?"

Richie smiled, "'Course, Eds. I'd personally love to spend every waking minute with you. So, yes, we can cook together, obviously."

Eddie laughed (something twinkling in his eyes), before adding, maybe nervously, "I don't know how to do shit, so."

"No problem, Eddie baby," Richie soothed, immediately, "-I'm a great fucking teacher."

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Okay, now," Richie clapped his hands, and spun on the tile for a second, "-What is your dream breakfast, Eddie my love?"

"That one's new," Eddie remarked, curiously (his head tilted, as he stared at Richie from the entrance to the kitchen).

"Yeah," Richie explained, "-I'm workshopping some shit. How do we feel about it, Spaghetti?"

"I like it," Eddie answered smiling, before pointing out, "-You also called me just baby last night too."

"Did I?" Richie furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember (well, there was honestly a lot to remember, good and bad).

"Mhm," Eddie confirmed, "-when you were calming me down."

Richie paused, something a little like worry stirred into his stomach, "Right, yeah, I remember that. Speaking of, you're doing okay, yeah?"

Eddie stepped toward him then with the cheesiest little smile that Richie's ever seen (he added it to his Eddie files, naturally). And then he smoothed his hands along Richie's shoulders, saying -simply, "Yeah, I'm... better than okay. Very fucking happy, if you're worried about it. Which you shouldn't be."

"Yeah?" Richie hummed, using one hand to smooth Eddie's hair down.

Eddie stepped onto his tippy-toes (Richie thought it was the cutest thing in the world), and kissed him once, "Yeah."

"Good," Richie responded, maybe a little too seriously but it was important. Richie wanted Eddie to be happy, because he deserved it. Happy and relaxed.

"I do like baby, by the way," Eddie brought the conversation back, "-but not more than any of the other ones. With my actual name. I like those the most."

Richie asked, "Do you think I can get an official ranking? So I know how to use them... strategically."

"Strategically?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, "-What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You've got your eyes, your big ass fucking... enchanting doe-eyes that I would end the fucking world for-" Richie pointed out, "-I've got to use what I've got."

Eddie paused, "You don't think you have any shit like that?"

"Um," Richie paused, suddenly uncertain, "-no...?"

Eddie frowned, "You do. You 100% do. You do shit that makes me want to physically attack anyone who has ever hurt you."

"Well," Richie smiled a little, "-it doesn't take much for you to want to physically attack someone-"

"Shut up, you get my point," Eddie interrupted, "-but I'm so fucking serious. You do."

"Really?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, before starting to explain, "You have this thing. Whenever I get sincere or say some sappy shit-"

Richie interrupted, "Crying?"

"I told you to shut up, dickweed," Eddie repeated with no bite (but definitely a little frustration), "-I'm trying to talk."

Richie raised his hands in surrender, Eddie was not amused.

"When I say sappy shit, and you aren't crying-" he clarified, and Richie laughed a little bit, "-you do this thing where you smile and tilt your head like a fucking... puppy. But it's not a regular smile... It's fucking goofy. Like you're tipsy on... me. My presence."

"Lovesick?" Richie supplied.

"Well, um..." Eddie paused for a second, seeming to run it through his head, "-yeah."

"You're into that?" Richie followed up.

Eddie responded -neatly, "Obviously."

"Well," Richie hummed, grinning, "-I'll keep that in my back pocket then."

"You're such a dick," Eddie shoved at him, and Richie stumbled on the tile -laughing, "-What the fuck were we talking about?"

"Breakfast," Richie answered, before repeating, "-'What is your dream breakfast, Eddie my love?'"

"Right," Eddie hummed, seeming to process for a minute -face turning a splotchy red, "-I really like that one."

"Eds, Spaghetti, Eddie baby, Eddie my love," Richie listed before dancing toward him on the tile (not unlike he was ice skating -one long stride after another), "-mon amour, light of my life, mi corazón-"

Eddie giggled, as Richie moved to him -stopping right in front of him. With a breath, he kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his eyes (after they closed -almost like he was absorbing the affection), and then his lips. Short and sweet, but still like he was offering his heart up on a platter. Soft enough that Eddie sighed into his mouth, and it made something in Richie sing -Eddie's fingertips slowly threading up into his curls.

Bzzt, bzzt.

Richie parted then, and Eddie frowned -cutely. He leaned back in and kissed him one more time (a peck really), picking up his phone.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
I'm coming over for breakfast

and to help unpack

and to see Eddie

⚠️ just a warning ⚠️

Because I love you guys, but if I see your dick again Tozier, I will be pressing charges.

Richie snorted.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
don't worry bevvy

u shall not be scandalized, we are both decent

last night though 😏

"Who is it?" Eddie asked, hand absentmindedly scratching Richie's scalp (he kinda wanted to purr like a cat at the attention).

"Bev," he answered diligently, "-She's coming over for breakfast."

"Shit, right now?" Eddie shrieked, cheeks bubbling up a harsh red, "-I need to get dressed, and fix my hair-"

They both were, in fact, sleep-mussed. And well... sex-mussed too. So, they did have like messy hair and skewed collars -telling of the night before. Richie, personally, loved the way Eddie looked at the current moment -he was pretty biased though.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
TMI, babe

but also good for Eddie

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
why not me ?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
Please.

I know you're a service top.

"Eddie baby, relax," Richie laughed (at both the text and Eddie scrambling), hands coming to smooth down Eddie's arms, "-It's not a first date. Plus, she kinda already knows what to expect."

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, and Richie raised his a few times -suggestively.

Eddie turned bright red, sputtering, "She doesn't know that-"

"We got home yesterday," Richie started listing, "-You're a germaphobe, so the trip back is out of the question. We've been in a long-distance relationship for months and that makes the tension fucking crazy-"

"Shut up," he hissed, before grabbing his hand and dragging him away, "-Let's go get dressed, dickhead."

"Round two?" Richie piped up, not fighting him at all.

Eddie spun back to meet him, cherry red -shoving at his chest, "I said shut up, asshole-"

It should be said that Eddie kissed him pretty hard in there though, maybe because he wouldn't want to do it as much with Bev around. Which was a little disappointing for Richie, but he'd get his fill later.

After re-entering the living space, Richie took the lead guiding him into kitchen again.

"Now, seriously, Eds," he leveled, holding his eye, "-what is your dream breakfast?"

Eddie paused a second, thinking maybe.

"There used to be this place nearby in New York," Eddie started, fidgeting with his hands (cute, cute, cute), "-It had chocolate chip pancakes, but I never let myself go in-"

"As a form of personal torture?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, ignoring him and continuing, "-but I always wanted to go in. Ma never let me have sweet stuff when I was little, so I really wanted to try it."

All Richie needed to hear was the first part, honestly, but upon hearing the second, he was nearly dying to make them. How fast could you physically make pancakes? Could Richie do it in minutes? Seconds? Well, they had to cook-

"Chocolate chip pancakes it is!" Richie clapped once, before scrambling around to the cabinets -peeking through one after the other.

"Do you have this shit organized?" Eddie asked, eyeing him from where he stood previously, "-At all?"

"No," Richie answered -diligently turning to face him, "-that's why you're perfect for me, dear Spaghetti."

Eddie frowned (but was definitely hiding a smile), Richie felt fucking giddy.

"Plus," Richie hummed, "-you'd probably do it anyway."

Eddie shrugged, before asking -carefully stepping toward the other side of the kitchen, "What are we looking for?"

"Eggs, flour, milk, baking powder, and-" Richie started listing casually, before grinning and grabbing a little bag, "-chocolate chips!"

Before Eddie could say anything, there was a noise.

Knock, knock.

Eddie blanched -face going pale. Richie frowned, dropping the bag onto the counter and moving to his side.

Gently, he pulled Eddie's face up to his, "It's just Bev, don't worry. And I'll be right here the whole time, okay?"

Eddie let out a shaky breath, seeming to relax.

"And I'll get it," Richie hummed, brushing a hand through his hair, "-so you can prepare yourself a little. That alright?"

"Yeah," Eddie started, taking a deep breath in and out, "-that's g-"

"Stop making out and answer me, Tozier! Let me in! You've kept Eddie to yourself for too long."

Richie laughed, and so did Eddie -tension lessening in his shoulders. Richie kissed his cheek once.

"Duty calls, Eddie baby," he grinned, "-Because she will definitely bust down the door."

Eddie laughed and shoved him toward the door -turning back to the cabinets.

Richie followed him for a second, just staring. Eddie Kaspbrak. In my apartment. In our apartment. Mine, my Eds, my Spaghetti-

He blinked and turned back toward the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he called out, quickly unlocking and opening it, "-don't get your panties in a-"

Bev pushing past him so hard that he almost fell backwards, Richie righted himself.

She spun to him, "Where is he?"

"In the kitchen," Richie answered, and before he could say anything else, she was off like a rocket.

He locked the door and scampered over to the kitchen. I promised Eds I'd be there, so I'm gonna fucking be there.

"Oh my god! Eddie!" Bev almost squealed, scooping him into a hug -Richie watched red dust along his cheeks (love, love, love), "-It is so nice to see you, what the fuck."

Eddie laughed, hugging her back -maybe a little flustered, "It's so nice to see you too, Bev."

"Ugh," she shot back, but not too far -Richie saw a flicker along his face that seemed almost overwhelmed (he took note of it), "-How are you? Is Richie treating you well? If not, you tell me, I'll kill him, I swear-"

"Jesus, Marsh," Richie laughed, gently moving her back slightly, "-let the guy breathe."

"Shit, sorry," she echoed out, taking a step back and letting out a breath, "-I'm just so happy to see you. Seriously."

"Me too," Eddie smiled, a soft genuine kind, "-and I'm very happy Bev. He's... good. He takes good care of me, I promise."

Richie nearly fucking preened. Happy, happy, happy-

Bev's face morphed into a grin, "I'm glad. You two deserve it."

Richie pulled Eddie into his side, and kissed his temple once. Like he couldn't help it. Which he couldn't so-

"What are we making?" Bev eyed the few ingredients pulled onto the counter (Eddie had somehow gotten all the dry ingredients out in that short amount of time -somehow, he wasn't surprised), and finally faced Richie.

He pulled away from Eddie, after squeezing his arm once (I love you), answering, "Chocolate chip pancakes. Or my dear Spaghetti's dream breakfast."

"Wow," Bev laughed, "-you really are treating him well, huh?"

"Yes ma'am," he chimed, pulling out the eggs and milk from the fridge -eyeing the expiration date for a second (because of the trip).

"I checked all that shit already," Bev interrupted (she had housesat while Richie was gone), clearly catching his gaze, "-Oh! Actually-"

Richie watched her.

"This," she dug into her pocket, and pulled out a shiny key -motioning to Eddie, "-is for you, Mr. Kaspbrak."

Eddie blinked, staring at it for a few seconds. Before very gently pulling it into his hands, careful and considerate -like it was precious. Richie eyed him, something odd about his reaction.

"Ya alright, Eds?" Richie bumped their shoulders, was that too much? Did he not want one yet?

"What, yeah," Eddie cleared his throat, eyes shooting up to match Richie's and then shooting to Bev's, "-It's just... I'm really here. With you guys. With you, Richie. I'm not in New York anymore and I'm... I'm staying. That’s… I’m not fucking gonna be miserable anymore.”

Richie grinned, but before he could say anything, Bev did.

"I'm so happy for you, Eddie," Bev chimed, smiling -wrapping him into a half hug (Eddie leaned his head into her shoulder). It made Richie want puke his heart out, he loved them so fucking much.

When they separated though-

"Close your eyes and cover your ears, Ms. Marsh," he chimed, big and bright.

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, as she scrunched up her nose, "I'll just go to the living room for a couple of minutes."

"What are you-"

Once Bev was out of the room, Richie crashed into him -pressing their lips together so quickly there was an audible click. Tipping Eddie backward until he was met with the counter, which he yelped a little at (it made Richie laugh). Eddie relaxed nearly instantly after that, hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders as Richie's landed neatly on his waist. Eddie hummed into his lips -sweetly, and it made Richie's heart flip in his chest -he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. And then, Eddie was pulling back, eyeing him a little like it was all a mystery but also with a look Richie could identify as fucking dizzying affection.

"What was that about?" Eddie breathed out, and the puffs smoothed along Richie's skin.

"Our apartment," Richie hummed, kissing along his jaw, "-You're finally fucking here and it's ours. You're mine. My fucking boyfriend, in our apartment-"

Eddie giggled.

"-and you're fucking happy, and I'm taking good care of you-"

"Okay, okay," Eddie pulled his face back, smiling, "-I think that's enough. For now."

"Okay," Richie stressed, "-but later?"

"All bets are off for later," Eddie chimed back, grinning. Richie wanted to sweep him off his feet and carry him away, and he almost did it-

"You guys aren't fucking, are you?"

Richie burst into laughter, and Eddie turned a new shade of red (that Richie filed away in the Eddie files, per usual).

"Tragically no, Bevvy," he hummed, and Eddie shoved into him -hard (he honestly almost fell on his ass), "-we are decent. Despite my best efforts-"

"Shut up," Eddie hissed out, punching his shoulder -Richie only laughed harder, folding in on himself, "-You're such an asshole. I fucking hate you."

Richie made a kissy face, trying to land one on Eddie -Eddie pushed back on him, laughing, "You love me, Eds, don't lie-"

Eddie was pushing at his shoulders (not far enough to be out of his bubble, Richie noted), and laughing loud, "Get away from me, asshole-"

Richie huffed, jutting out his bottom lip (most definitely pouting), putting his hand on his head like he was a fainting damsel, "My beloved has left me stranded, without love, alone-"

Eddie was laughing harder -eyes scrunched closed, and Richie couldn't stop himself from laughing with him. And after a breath, Eddie grabbed his face and leveled it with his own -grinning so bright that Richie thought maybe he could fly.

"I love you, dickweed," Eddie laughed out, holding Richie's face so tenderly that he kinda wanted to cry.

Richie grinned, tilting his head to the side, "I love you too, Eds."

Eddie rolled his eyes, affectionately, and pulled him forward (close enough to kiss, Richie would say), "You're such a-"

"You guys are actually so sweet," Bev hummed, and they jumped in place -Eddie's hands tight on him (like he needed protecting, Richie wanted to cry his eyes out), "-it's a little disgusting."

"Awe, I'm sorry, Bev," Richie frowned, playfully, "-We can't accept a third, Eddie's territorial. Like a little chihuahua-"

"Shut up," Eddie shoved at him.

"I can tell," Bev smirked, motioning to Richie's neck (Richie's eyes dropped like he could see that shit himself), and popping a chocolate chip into her mouth, "-Tragically, I am too. So, it wouldn't work."

"Hey," Richie laughed, stepping away from Eddie but firmly wrapping an arm around his shoulders and dragging him over, "-those are our ingredients, Marsh."

"Because you were cooking, right?" she shot back but still put the bag down, "-On Eddie's face?"

"This is so embarrassing," Eddie flushed, trying to tuck himself into Richie's side even more.

"Don't be embarrassed, Eddie," Bev interrupted, soothingly, "-We're all adults here, and it's Richie. I've seen way worse."

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, "Worse?"

Bev leveled, seriously, "You don't wanna know."

Richie rolled his eyes, "She just saw me naked, Eds."

"She saw you naked?" Eddie pursed his lips.

"Indoor concert," Bev hummed, fidgeting with her nails, "-a naked indoor concert."

"I lived alone," Richie huffed out, defensive, "-I can be comfortable-"

"What song?" Eddie asked.

"I Will Survive," Bev answered, grinning a little, "-hairbrush, and off-key vocals and all."

Eddie snorted, and Richie flushed.

"Hey," he poked into Eddie's side, "-you're supposed to be on my side. Your boyfriend, remember?"

"It's funny," Eddie smiled, before leaning to pinch his cheek -nose scrunching up after a minute, "-plus, it sounds cute. Except for the naked part. Does that mean you've been naked like fucking... everywhere? That's disgusting-"

"That's not what you said last night-"

Eddie turned cherry red and frowned -the cute little one with puffed-up cheeks. Richie's fucking favorite. And then, he started swatting and shoving at Richie, and he burst into fucking laughter -dodging what he could.

"You're such a fucking dick-"

"You know you can't argue, Eds, because you were all about-"

"Boys," Bev spoke up, mid-laughter, but trying to cut it back, "-can we refocus? You guys can do your... thing, later. I'm fucking starving."

Eddie shot up, cheeks still so red (fuck, Richie loved him), and pursed his lips. Richie followed, wiping at his eyes, and shooting over to kiss his cheek once.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, Bev," Richie exhaled, shaking his hands a few times, "-Jesus, he's a funny motherfucker."

Bev grinned, flicking a chocolate chip right at his face -it bounced onto the counter and Richie picked it up and popped it in his mouth (he could almost hear Eddie’s nose scrunch), "You're stupid in love, Tozier."

"Fuck yeah, I am," he grinned, pulling out a bowl and moving like it was the most practiced thing in the world.

"You too, Kaspbrak," Bev pointed out, and Richie went to look at him -his big brown eyes already trained on him (Richie felt his heart flutter in his chest), "-You're not getting out of this scot-free."

Eddie rolled his eyes, cheeks still dusted with a red but moving to Richie's side -dragging Richie's free hand over his shoulder-. (He probably should've said that he needed that to cook, but you know what, he could deal.) And with a breath, Eddie leaned against him -cuddled into his side, and Richie got a whiff of strawberries.

"Yeah," he finally said after a moment, "-I know."

Richie grinned so brightly it hurt, but kept moving -Eddie trying to follow the movements. When he realized that, he started slowing and explaining himself -pulling up the measuring cups and letting Eddie fill them, answering all his questions, and letting him mix. It was all the-

"Disgusting, seriously," Bev pointed out, after a moment -both of their eyes shot to her, "-but I love it. You guys are freakishly perfect for each other."

Richie opened his mouth.

"Please," Bev swatted her hand, dismissively, "-don't let me interrupt, I've already got a picture for the groupchat, continue."

"Wait-"

reddy.bevvy ✔️
image

benny.boy.official✔️
they look so happy together ☺️

big.bill ✔️
Is that a hickey?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
yes

stan.the.man ✔️
Disgusting.

I'm happy for them.

Patty says to tell them come visit soon.

mike.me.up ✔️
I can't believe it

trashmouth is in a cute, healthy relationship

stan.the.man ✔️
Don't know if you should call it healthy, Mike.

Patty told me to apologize.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
we should really just add her, huh ?

big.bill ✔️
Why is Eddie so red?

stan.the.man ✔️
Richie 100% made a 'last night' dick joke.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
spot on, Stanley

mike.me.up ✔️
at least it's founded

like he actually does know that

big.bill ✔️
Ew, Mike.

I'm trying to eat my wafflehouse All-Star Special.

stan.the.man ✔️
I'm sorry, you're at wafflehouse right now?

big.bill ✔️
It's only 11 dollars, Stanley.

It's a great fucking deal.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
wow, Bill your life is sadder than Richie's rn

how does that make you feel?

big.bill ✔️
Fuck you guys.

Talk to me when you have, eggs, toast, hashbrowns, a waffle, and bacon for only 11 dollars, assholes.

mike.me.up ✔️
what the fuck is happening ?

benny.boy.official ✔️
where are Richie and Eddie?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
image

[It was a photo of the two cooking pancakes. The batter poured onto the griddle, and Richie lightly held onto the spatula, guiding Eddie to check the bottom. Eddie was entirely focused on the task at hand (so much so his tongue was stuck out), and Richie was completely wrapped around him -eyes set on his face. Just like maybe Bev had snapped the picture at just the right moment. Richie was grinning like an idiot. Well, even more of an idiot than usual. His eyes were fucking... twinkly. Happy. Happier than he'd been in a long time.]

mike.me.up ✔️
wow, rich is a goner huh

benny.boy.official ✔️
he looks at him like he's the sun

that's so sweet !

big.bill ✔️
Shit, he's like seriously in love.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
ohhhhh yeah

this is his favorite breakfast

and they've barely gone two minutes without touching

stan.the.man ✔️
I hate that I think they're cute.

mike.me.up ✔️
anyone who has eyes would, Stan

don't beat yourself up about it

big.bill ✔️
Damn, trashmouth Tozier in love.

That's fucking insane.

stan.the.man ✔️
What's insane is you eating at wafflehouse, willingly, by yourself, Bill.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
guys

big.bill ✔️
who said I was alone?

mike.me.up. ✔️
👀👀👀

stan.the.man ✔️
Please tell me you did not bring a date to wafflehouse, Bill.

big.bill ✔️
...

stan.the.man ✔️
Even Richie is MAKING his boyfriend breakfast, Bill.

Richie Tozier is showing you up.

mike.me.up ✔️
it is kinda pathetic, Bill

I have to be honest

big.bill ✔️
Audra is enjoying her All-Star Special, thanks.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
Audra?

the one with the moneybags dad ?

you took her to wafflehouse ???

big.bill ✔️
She's never been 🤷‍♂️

stan.the.man ✔️
I'm done with this conversation.

Bev, tell Richie to call me. Patty wants to talk to the two of them.

mike.me.up ✔️
no me too

there's only so much cute couple shit and Bill shenanigans I can take

I'm only a man

big.bill ✔️
🖕

reddy.bevvy ✔️
guyssss

don't leave me

what the fuck am I supposed to do ?

stan.the.man ✔️
Stare at them and wish it was you.

Like everybody else.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
you're literally married ???

stan.the.man ✔️
Not me.

Obviously.

benny.boy.official ✔️
I can still talk, Bev !

I don't have anything for an hour or so

reddy.bevvy ✔️
thx ben

you're my hero !!!

benny.boy.official ✔️
it's no big deal

It'll be nice talking to you :)

stan.the.man ✔️
Okay, now I'm really done with this conversation.

And then, hours later.

e.kaspbrak
Fuck all of you.

e.kaspbrak saved 2 photos from chat

Chapter Text

Richie wasn't exactly sure why it started, but it did. There could be a myriad of reasons, honestly (all of which Richie had debated thoroughly at this point), but it did start happening. Not that Richie was complaining.

It was the day after Bev started helping, and she had said she couldn't do much more (with her stream schedule), but she'd do what she could. Richie had actually posted that he'd be back on stream by next week (which was fittingly flushed with '🍝' because his fans seemed to be obsessed with Eddie just a little less than he was), so, they weren't exactly on a timer, per se, but they did kinda have a deadline. Technically.

Richie was currently pulling out some of Eddie’s personal shit. Mostly because a lot of the stuff Eddie intended to do himself, like clothes, for example, he had to color code them -so, it was essentially no use for Richie to hang them up. But things like his toothbrush, his hair products, shampoo, conditioner, and plates (shit that already had a spot essentially) were fair game. So, that's what Richie was doing.

That being said, he was sitting -rifling through a box in the living room (DVDs and games -that he never had the console for but Richie did), and Eddie was in the kitchen. Organizing the pantry. Well, he thinks anyway, Eddie was doing a lot in the kitchen, so he really could be on any task at this point.

This, this was when it started.

"Hey, Richie, honey, where do you keep the canned shit?"

He answered naturally -thoughtlessly, "In the cabinet to the right of the fridge, Eds."

He chimed a sweet little thank you, that made Richie grin a little. And nearly instantly, Richie went back to shuffling -on a mission.

It took a minute to process, and he was pulling out a movie (a Garfield cartoon that Eddie had most certainly bought for him) when it hit him.

"Honey?" He questioned, mostly to himself -laughing a little.

Slipping the DVD into the cabinet (Richie already had them alphabetized, thankfully), he stood and slowly pattered over to the kitchen.

Eddie was staring at the pantry in intense focus (bingo), brown deadset on them like if he looked away they'd unsort themself somehow. Richie loved him so much he might explode. He figured they both could use the break anyway, so he spoke.

"Did you just call me honey?" Richie asking, teasingly.

Eddie jumped, spinning to him before flushing a red that Richie knew well, "Yes, why, dickweed?"

"I should be asking you that, Spaghetti," Richie slowly made his way to Eddie's side -his big brown eyes were soft on him (betraying his pinched frown).

"I'm your boyfriend," Eddie offered, frustrated, "-Am I not fucking allowed to call you pet names?"

"You're allowed," Richie laughed, now right in front of him (long strides are really helpful sometimes), "-but you've literally never done that before."

"Well," Eddie actually fucking pouted, and Richie near immediately kissed him (like it was a fucking Pavlovian response and you know, maybe it was) -Eddie's frown quirked up for a second, "-you have all this shit for me, I wanted to... try some out."

Richie grinned big and bright, pinching his cheek, "Awe, Eds loves me-"

"Shut up," Eddie shoved at him, "-of course, I do. You're lucky I don't call you fucking 'goose egg' or some shit."

Richie snorted, "Goose egg?"

"It's better than fucking Spaghetti," Eddie pointed out.

"First off, maybe later," Richie winked (Eddie's frown set even deeper), "-but secondly, there's nuance to it, Eddie my love. It's a nickname of another nickname that I've given you. There's layers, like an onion-"

"Cool it, ogre," Eddie retorted, "-Aren't you supposed to be sorting shit?"

"Ogre?" Richie hummed -playfully acting thoughtfully, "-Now that's a thinker, Eds. Totally could be a winner."

"Shut up," Eddie repeated, shoving him (but not before kissing him solidly once), "-Go do your fucking job, Tozier. Make yourself useful."

"I can think of a few ways I can make myself useful," Richie hummed, moving his eyebrows -suggestively.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but did in fact say, "Maybe later, dickweed."

And that was the end of that. Well, technically the start of something (more than one something but you didn't hear it from Richie).

It didn't stop there. Eddie kept trying them.

'Love' when they woke up in the morning -wrapped into each other (it was cute, but Eddie definitely didn't like it when he said it), 'darling' when he didn't want to move off the couch to get the remote (Richie had straight-up burst into laughter at that one, it just wasn't right), 'babe' as he rambled about different things putting up his clothes (that one actually sounded pretty good, but it didn't quite achieve his goal of flustering Richie), 'sweetheart' when Richie had given him his homemade dinner (that one was cute, but again there was a prerogative), 'lovebug' when Richie was being a little too clingy -not that Eddie was complaining (that one just didn't sound right in his mouth), 'dear' just saying it to see if it worked (Richie pointed out his bit and Eddie had promptly dropped it), 'bae' in a similar way as babe but much more purposeful (Richie and Eddie started at each other for a moment before simultaneously bursting into laughter).

All that to say, Eddie was trying. Richie personally thought it was the cutest thing in the world. He wanted it to maybe go on forever, and maybe he thought maybe it could go on forever-

Well, until Eddie found the perfect one.

They'd done it, every box unpacked -Eddie was totally and completely moved in. Richie was fucking ecstatic, personally, (although... he would miss the way Eddie's arms flexed when he was carrying a particularly heavy box) because Eddie was officially living with him. Eddie could wake up in the morning, get his toothbrush and toothpaste, go to fucking... his closet and get his clothes. God, Richie was over the fucking moon-

That being said, they were physically letting themselves rest (at Eddie’s insistence, naturally). In a similar position to how they slept, actually, Richie as a human blanket with their legs intertwined. The only thing different, now, was that Eddie was partially sort of sat up. It made it so Richie was a touch lower than he'd usually be, and his arms circled his lower waist instead of around his ribs. It did mean, however, that Eddie could smooth one hand mindlessly up and down Richie's back and the other thread gently through his hair.

It was probably the best fucking cuddling Richie had ever been a part of. It was no wonder he was getting tired, Eddie was safe and warm and comfortable and his fingertips were gentle and soft. Richie should've been knocked out as soon as he'd laid onto Eddie's chest-

"You ready to go to bed, lover?" Eddie hummed, soft and gentle -affectionately teasing.

Richie blinked. Lover?

"Rich," Eddie continued, more persistent. At no response, he moved his hands to pull Richie's face up to match his eyes.

He must've looked some sort of cute because Eddie's face softened considerably -brown eyes shiny and soft. It made Richie's head swim that he was looking at fucking him like that.

"You tired, lover?"

Richie was not sure if it was the name (lover? what the fuck-), the tone, or maybe his eyes, but it made some splotchy red climb up his collar. Eddie's eyes hinged on it for a second, eyebrows furrowing for a second -before something settled across his face, a glint in his eyes.

Was this what it felt like with 'Eddie baby'?

"You like that one?" Eddie asked, smiling -thumbs brushing against Richie's face (he kinda wanted to lean into it), before teasing, "-Lover?"

Richie pressed his lips together.

"Or maybe," Eddie added, still smiling and moving to peck his lips once (Richie kinda felt like he was in paradise), "-loverboy?"

He blinked, red shooting up his cheeks, Eddie grinned. It made Richie's heart skip a beat, even now. But at the moment, he felt a little speechless.

Richie just shoved his head forward into the crook of Eddie's neck -drowning in strawberries. Eddie laughed and it rattled through Richie's head.

"Really?" Eddie hummed, pressing a kiss to his temple, and moving a freehand to thread through his curls again "-Those are the ones that get you?"

"I dunno," Richie breathed out against the skin of Eddie's neck, "-there's just something about the teasing of loverboy. And the fucking... sincerity of lover. Because, yeah, you do fucking love me. And that's sick as fuck-"

Eddie laughed again, before humming -softly, "You do still get pretty fucking affected when I say 'I love you'."

As if on cue, his skin burned brighter, "Well, yeah, because you fucking... love me."

Eddie giggled, and tugged his face up again -brown matching his own, "You're so fucking cute when you're tired, loverboy."

Richie frowned, cheeks pink, "This is not fair, I'm tired and vulnerable and you're so pretty it makes my brain hurt-"

Eddie pulled him forward and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. Slow and sweet, fingers sliding back to push curls behind his ears and palms on his cheeks to keep him there. Richie felt like he might physically faint, being treated so preciously. He always felt that shit when Eddie was like this, all soft and sweet and genuine. The times where he just genuinely showed Richie he loved him, without the poking and the prodding.

Don't get him wrong, he lives for the poking and the prodding, but these moments? They are right fucking there with them. Richie wanted them to feel this way forever, to never lose the warmth twisted around his heart, the bursting love in his chest any time he looked at him.

God. He was so fucked.

Richie woke up to two things that next morning, the thrum of Eddie's heartbeat under his chest, and the buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand.

He blinked, leaning up slightly. With a breath, he moved to press a kiss to the hinge of Eddie's jaw -soft and sweet, and pulled himself off of Eddie. It took a few seconds, but he did it eventually, slipping on his glasses.

'Staniel 🐦😤😠 is calling'

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing the time: 9:37. What the fuck-

Before he could think anything of it, Eddie stirred a little, and Richie felt the need (instinctive) to soothe him.

"Just a sec, Eddie baby," he hummed, leaning over and kissing his forehead.

Eddie shifted, rubbing at his eyes, "Where are you going?"

"Stanny's calling," Richie hummed, voice scratchy, "-if I don't answer, he'll kick my fucking ass."

"Stanley?" Eddie sat up, and Richie frowned.

"Eds, you can go back to sleep," he motioned dismissively, "-I'll figure out what he needs, and-"

"No, I don't want to," Eddie echoed out, yawning -stretching slightly (Richie's eyes unwillingly hitched on the skin of Eddie's stomach for a moment), "-it fucking sucks without you, and I want to talk to Stanley and Patty-"

Richie blinked.

"-Now c'mon, asshole," he pat the bed, "-answer the fucking phone."

Richie did as told -scooting in close to Eddie and throwing an arm around his shoulders (Eddie snuggled into him, naturally).

"Stan?" Richie called out, putting him on speaker.

"Richie, I've called you like three fucking times," Stanley spoke up through the phone.

"It's 9:37 am here, Stanley," Richie argued, yawning within the sentence, "-I just woke up to your call. Well, we just woke up to your call, actually-"

"Oh my god, Eddie!" Patty piped up, and Richie could physically hear the grin on her face, "-Hi, sweetheart. How's California?"

Eddie laughed, maybe a little nervous (Richie squeezed him closer to his side), "It's still fucking polluted, but-"

Patty laughed, and Eddie's eyes hung on Richie for a second -Richie wanted to bathe in it like it was fucking sunlight.

"-it's a lot fucking better. I'm happy as shit."

Richie grinned, turning to kiss his cheek (Eddie swatted at him but didn't push him too far away). So fucking cute.

"I'm really glad," Stanley added, softly. It was unusual but not unfamiliar.

Something flickered along Eddie's face, taken aback a little, Richie could tell.

"Alright, Stanthony," Richie hummed, "-to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Actually," Stanley hummed, "-I wanted to talk to Eddie."

Richie blinked, and eyed Eddie for a second -his eyes widened in response (maybe nervous, Richie itched to soothe).

He squeezed Eddie again, fingertips dragging along his arm -in a comforting motion.

"You gonna put him through the wringer again, Stanthony? Really?" Richie laughed.

"No," Stanley answered flatly, "-You guys are stupid in love with each other, I could see that from like 1000s of miles away. It's disgusting."

Richie rolled his eyes, teasing, "Sometimes I worry for Patty."

Patty snickered over the phone.

"Very funny, Richie," Stanley continued, unphased, "-Look, I want to talk about my wedding."

Shit, right, it was maybe two months away. He and Eddie had talked about it a little bit, and Eddie wasn't sure if Stanley would want him there. Richie disagreed, strongly, and told him that every time they talked about it. Because it was just so fucking obvious to him. Stanley, at the least, loved Richie and Richie loved Eddie. So, by proxy, he was going to the wedding.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, curiously.

"Well, I have a big ass wedding party, already but-"

Eddie's eyes grew wide, and Richie watched him for a second with a baited breath.

"-you're a Loser now. Not even just because of Richie. You're one of us. So, I wanted to ask if you'd be one of my groomsmen?"

Eddie blinked, his mouth screwing up into something Richie recognized -something a little teary. Richie kissed his cheek again, and Eddie leaned closer to him this time.

"What the fuck," Eddie laughed, a little teary, "-Yeah, of course, Stanley. What the fuck-"

Richie laughed, rubbing his hand up and down his back. Eddie was grinning, smooth against his side, and Richie thought that's where he was meant to be. That they fit perfectly together, that it was always supposed to be this way in the end-

Patty hummed, soft and sweet, "It just wasn't right without you in our wedding, Eddie."

"Shit," he sniffled, and Richie wiped at his tears with his freehand -before his breath started to pick up, "-thank you. Are you... Do you have a suit for me? Or should I fucking get on that? What are your wedding colors-"

"Eddie baby, relax," Richie interrupted -trying to catch his eye (keyed in on the Eddie-ism), "-let 'em speak, yeah? Don't worry about hypothetical shit."

Eddie took a breath, brown eyes focused on Richie. He watched him for a second, making sure his breaths slowed and the tension slid out of his body-

"You guys are disgusting," Stanley interrupted, promptly, and it made Richie snort out a laugh.

"Shut up," Eddie huffed out, and moved to wrap his arms around Richie’s middle.

Richie laughed even harder.

"To answer your question," Patty spoke, sternly, maybe to the both of them, "-just send us your suit size, honey. We'll get it. We still have time. No need to worry."

"Okay," Eddie paused, "-if you guys need anything else, let me know. I'm great at planning-"

"I bet," Stanley snickered, Richie physically heard the smack on his chest (love ya, Patts), "-honestly, just wish you were here before we paid for a wedding planner."

Eddie laughed then too.

"That's why we called," Patty confirmed, "-but if I don't get to talk to Eddie for a while, I will fly out and kick your ass, Richie."

"What the fuck, why me?"

"Please," Stanley leveled, "-she'd never kick Eddie's ass. He's her favorite."

"What?" Richie let out a faux gasp, dramatically leaning back against the headboard, "-My dearest Patricia, I swore we had something special-"

"Don't worry, Richie," Patty hummed over the phone, "-I think you're a package deal. I just don't have the years of Eddie that I do with you."

Richie pouted, as if she could see him, and Eddie laughed at it and even just the noise made the act falter.

"Yeah, whatever," Richie huffed out -playfully.

Eddie was on the phone (he’d switched to his own) for about an hour and a half, he'd turned it off of speaker (for whatever reason), and because Richie was a clingy motherfucker, he stayed close to him. Like didn't move a single limb, fingers brushing through his hair or trailing along his skin. It was a little like he was memorizing him, understanding that he was right fucking there. Eddie, right there with him, his boyfriend.

It was easy to forget sometimes that Eddie was here with him, that he'd found Eddie at all. Because he'd gotten used to life without him, without someone, but now... fuck, he can't even remember what it was like before Eddie. And he doesn't fucking want to. Ever. He'd do everything in his power to keep him. Everything-

Wait.

Richie paused, switching on his phone as Eddie mindlessly talked to Patty -he dove into one conversation in particular.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
best way to make a date about seeing the golden gate bridge

go

Richie paused for a moment, drumming his fingers along Eddie's skin -right under his shirt sleeve. Even now, it still made his head spin to get to fucking touch him.

reddy.bevvy ✔️
this your idea or his ?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
his

he wants to see the bridge but like we should do some other shit

shouldn't we?

reddy.bevvy ✔️
you know you don't have to do huge fucking gestures right?

eddie will probably love it either way

Richie smiled, and pressed a kiss into Eddie’s temple, Eddie nuzzled further into him in response. Jesus fuck, Richie loved the shit out of him-

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah I know

it's just like some of his first dates ever

I want to do right by him

he deserves the fucking best

reddy.bevvy ✔️
you know it might just be 'the best' to him if it's with you right?

Richie paused, pressing his lips together, eyes darting to Eddie who was sunken into his side. Completely wrapped up in him, playing with one of Richie's hands as he mindlessly spoke to Patty. Casual affection (because he loves me). Something in Richie wanted to cry, and the other part wanted to kiss Eddie until he couldn't breathe.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️
yeah I know

I just want it to be perfect

I love him so much bev

reddy.bevvy ✔️
I know, Rich

let me look around for you

we're gonna make this shit amazing

Richie laughed, softly, moving his head to come through Eddie’s hair. His Eddie. My Eddie. Jesus.

Bev eventually got back to him, with a slew of answers. The best places to see the Golden Gate Bridge, the best places physically by it. Restaurants and cafés and stores, she'd had it all covered. And then finished it with:

reddy.bevvy ✔️
enjoy yourself rich xoxo

So, that brought him to now, watching Eddie get ready. It was the cutest thing in the world.

He pulled out a shirt on the hanger, eyed it, and then another, and physically moved them back and forth. Richie had the spare thought that any other person would probably rush him, but he just wanted to pull up a fucking chair, lean his head on his hands with big-ass heart eyes. Partially because Eddie was LIVING here, and partially because he loved him so much he might explode-

"What do you think?" Eddie suddenly turned to him, holding out a short-sleeved baby blue button-up with a white tanktop underneath it and a simple brown polo.

Richie hummed, curiously, "Isn't red your favorite color, Eds?"

"Well," Eddie pursed up his lips, "-yeah, but-"

"Would wearing red make you happy?" Richie interrupted, tilting his head.

Eddie pulled the two shirts back to himself, gnawing at his lips, "I... I guess so."

"Then wear red, Eddie baby," Richie offered.

"I don't even think I fucking have red," Eddie pointed out, sliding his shirts back into their spots.

"Well, lucky for you, my dearest Spaghetti," Richie hummed, tugging him by the wrist to his own closet, "-You are dating a man made up of literal fucking color vomit-"

"Ew," Eddie scrunched up his nose, Richie leaned forward and kissed it (Eddie's frown quirked up for a split second).

Opening his closet, he motioned toward the assortment as if he were unveiling a new exhibit at a museum, arms open and wide.

"Take your pick, Eddie my love."

Eddie laughed only a little, before stepping past him into his closet.

On the surface, it was overwhelming, Richie could acknowledge that. Even after Eddie sorted it by color (because he wanted to, and Richie would give him the world if he could). But he could definitely say he has every color in his wardrobe, which is fun. Good, probably.

Red is actually more in Richie's wardrobe than expected. Mostly because there we a lot of strange button ups in red, but also because Bev had told him he looked good in fucking... 'maroon'. So, she'd typically get him something on the red spectrum.

Eddie fingered through the fabric, thoughtfully. Richie watched him again. If there was a career in watching Eddie Kaspbrak, he'd probably be the fucking CEO. He'd be the best of the best because he could just watch him. Which was weird as fuck, because normal Richie couldn't even wait for a loading screen in a game without chattering about fucking any and everything (great for streaming, but still). But with Eddie... he could just watch. And he could listen. Richie was usually fucking talking his ass off but when Eddie was talking, god all Richie wanted to fucking do was listen. Even about the most mundane shit in the world, Richie would never be bored. He could watch his mouth curve around the words, the way his eyes glinted differently depending on how he was feeling, the way his nose scrunched up when he was disgusted. Eddie was the most expressive person in the fucking world, and Richie wanted to know all of his expressions so bad it ached.

Fuck, he was so fucked.

Eddie pulled out a simple t-shirt with the champion logo in blue on the front, toward the right side. He showed it to Richie.

"Is this too fucking simple?" Eddie pursed his lips, "-This is like our first official date, and I know you fucking put effort into it, and I'm just gonna wear a fucking sports t-shirt? That feels so shitty-"

"I really fucking love you," Richie interrupted, smiling -affection bubbling up his throat (I wanna keep him forever).

Eddie's lips snapped shut, and a red bloomed onto his cheeks (like it was the first time Richie had ever said it, which it decidedly was not). His big brown eyes flicked between quite a few different things, some that Richie could name and others he'd learn to.

Finally, he spoke, soft, "I love you too, Richie."

"That one's nice," Richie hummed, leaning forward and pinching the fabric between his fingers, "-I think it'll be fucking great for today."

"But-"

"It's gonna be hot, Eddie baby," Richie moved forward, smoothing his hands down his arms, "-and you really don't have to fucking try hard for me. Just be comfortable and happy. I'll still makeout with you later, your shirt won't-"

Eddie shoved at him, "Shut up."

Even still, he pulled it off the hanger without hesitating. After quickly changing his shirt (and Richie maybe being a little distracted by the shown skin), they were on the streets of San Francisco.

Richie had suggested they walk, and Eddie had promptly pulled out some sunscreen. Richie wasn't going to complain, Eddie's hands all over him? Yes, please-

"Where are we going?" Eddie interrupted the thought process, thankfully.

Richie grinned, and poked his nose, "Wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy?"

Eddie scrunched of his nose, "A vine, really?"

"Uh, yeah, really," Richie enunciated, swinging his arm over Eddie's shoulder and tugging him close (Eddie didn't even hesitate with the motion, tucked against his side), "-that shit shaped a whole generations humor, it should be in fucking textbooks-"

Eddie interrupted him, pouting, "Are you seriously not going to tell me where we're going?"

Richie laughed at the expression, pulling him close and kissing his temple, "Don't worry Eds, you'll figure it out."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but stayed tight to Richie's side, hand moving up to grab his that was hanging off his shoulder -effectively pulling them closer. Richie felt like he'd never loved someone more in his life.

"Hey, Eddie my love?"

Eddie hummed, in response, eyes wandering along all the buildings.

"What are you willing to eat from a food truck?" Richie asked curiously, eyeing the upcoming section of food, "-If the answer is nothing, that's fine, but we could probably fond somewhere eat-in-"

"You'd-" Eddie started, "-You'd do that? Find somewhere else?"

Richie paused in his step, moving his arm to face Eddie fully -big brown eyes on his own.

"Eddie baby," he started, leveled but still somehow through laughs, "-I am balls deep in love with you-"

Eddie scrunched up his nose and shoved him, "You're fucking disgusting."

"-picking a different restaurant doesn't mean shit to me. As long as you're happy and comfortable, I'll find shit I like."

Eddie eyed him, flickering over his face -hinging on his facial features, like he was trying to memorize them. Richie did it a lot when Eddie was still asleep (if he woke up before him), and he could tilt his head up and count the freckles across his nose (which the sun, in fact, brought out more). It was 13, 6 on one side and 7 on the other (Eddie would despise it), if you were wondering-

"I think you might be the love of my life."

Richie blinked.

"Like forever kinda shit," Eddie added less eloquently, "-Like I don't think I ever get past you. I think... I think this is it. I think you're it."

Richie blinked again, mind running 100 miles per hour.

"I just, um-" Eddie continued, nervously, "-You should know that. And I know we've only really been dating a few months, but I just... It makes sense. You, Richie, you make sense. You've... always made sense."

Richie heart felt like it might literally explode. And he had half an idea that Eddie might fucking pull out a ring, but he knew better than that. Eddie, if he was proposing, he'd be stressing over the words, trying to recite them. Be perfect. And Richie would force him to break it, to be imperfect-

Fuck, if he asked, he'd say yes. What the fuck does that mean-

"Jesus, Eds," Richie laughed a little teary, "-Where the fuck did that come from? What the fuck-"

Eddie shrugged, completely certain in his words -not a shred of him embarrassed, as he moved his hands to cup Richie's face naturally (thumbs brushing away any tears), "I just really fucking love you."

"God," Richie laughed, teary, "-I love you too, you little shit. What the fuck? You can't just say that shit out on the street, while I'm trying to fucking figure out if you'd eat from a shitty taco truck-"

Eddie giggled, still cradling his face.

"-I'm not fucking ready for that. I might need days in preparation, honestly. Fuck, man."

Richie tried to wipe at his own eyes, laughing lightly, "It goes without saying, Eds, I think you're it for me too. Just fyi."

Eddie grinned brighter, a teasing twinkle in his eye, "Yeah, I kinda figured."

"Oh, fuck you, Kaspbrak," Richie laughed harder, pulling himself out of his grip, "-You're such a little asshole. The fucking whiplash I get from dating you, you should start paying my medical bills-"

"Shut up," Eddie chased him back, moving to cradle his face and kiss him. A soft and sweet one, the kind that Richie wanted to curl up under and absorb like a cat in the sunlight. He could fucking kiss Eddie forever. He'd suffocate, yeah, but what a way to go-

Richie pulled back, but held their foreheads together, grinning. God, he was so happy. So, so happy. Eddie grinned right back at him (like maybe he was so, so happy too).

"God," Richie let him go, intertwining their hands, "-fucking Eddie Kaspbrak-"

Eddie laughed, following Richie's guide as he navigated to a little sandwich shop that Bev had pointed out. They were still a little ways to being at The Golden Gate Bridge, but it was definitely pretty big on their horizon. They ended up getting sandwiches, both relatively light, nothing too heavy for the evening (Eddie wanted them to eat an actual meal later like you were 'fucking supposed to'). Richie would do literally anything he asked.

"Favorite season?" Richie asked, sandwich in one hand, and Eddie's hand in the other. They were tossing through 20 questions again, it was just nice -getting to know each other more (Richie wanted to know everything about Eddie so badly it burned).

Eddie hummed, chewing a bite (no way in hell he was talking with food in his mouth) and swallowing, "Maybe fall."

"Why?" Richie asked, following.

"Not as much to worry about," Eddie leveled, "-no fucking allergies as bad as spring's, no severe chance of hypothermia like in winter, and no stupid fucking sunburn and heat stroke chance like summer."

Richie hummed, thoughtfully.

"You?" Eddie's eyes flickered to Richie.

"Summer," Richie answered, "-obviously."

"Obviously?" Eddie raised an eyebrow.

"Eddie, my love," Richie laughed, "-look at me. I'm just... It's summer. I can't explain it. Although, I fucking love Halloween-"

"Now, that is fucking obvious-"

Eddie faltered off, then, as Richie guided him to the bridge, stopping as his steps did. The sun was just beginning to set, and Richie literally thanked god that it had lined up that perfectly-

"The bridge," Eddie spoke, a little lost.

"Yup," Richie popped the 'p', disconnecting their hands to throw an arm around his shoulders, "-per your request."

Eddie paused, eyes stuck on the setting of the sun, "I don't think this would be as cool without the sunset."

Richie snorted, "Which is why I am converting to Christianity in a few hours and thanking Jesus personally-"

"Shut up," Eddie elbowed him, and Richie jumped slightly, "-you're ruining it, dickwad."

"Yeah, yeah," Richie rolled his eyes, but still stopped talking.

His eyes hung on the setting sun and the bridge. It was kinda beautiful. Okay, no kinda, it was beautiful, the shine of the metal, the slightly cloudy skyline, the oranges. It was all beautiful. Very beautiful. Richie hadn't felt that way about San Francisco in awhile, but Eddie... Eddie brought it out of him-

Eddie leaned onto his shoulder, interrupting his thought process. And a fondness that only Eddie had ever achieved swam over Richie's skin.

He peeked at Eddie out of the corner of his eye.

And fuck, he was beautiful. Forget the fucking bridge-

His eyes were glittering in the golden hour way (Richie was looking at it in person now), and the setting orange highlighted the features of his face -the tip of his nose, his jawline, the individual curls (waves kinda) of his hair, even his fucking eyelashes. And he was so close that Richie could individually count his freckles, while his whole face was washed in a glow. An evening glow. He wanted to commit this to memory, this fucking vision of Eddie. And this whole day. These fucking feelings, ever since he'd gotten Eddie, he wanted to memorize how he felt every stage of the way. Remember it until he was old and fucking grey.

Richie let the thought settle in his head for a second.

In a year, he could buy a ring. Perfect for Eddie, maybe engraved with something unbelievably stupid. Gold maybe because of this moment now, because of the way he fucking simmered in the sun. Golden. And then finding the perfect time, the perfect moment, and maybe fucking it up. Maybe tripping up on his words, or crying too much to speak, or dropping the fucking box. But he'd still ask. And maybe...

Maybe Eddie would say yes.

Richie quietly leaned his head on top of Eddie's, and held him as close as physically possible -warmth against his entire side. He reveled in the fact that Eddie didn't even flinch at it, just nuzzled closer. Like he fit. Like he was always meant to be there.

And you know what? Richie thinks he was.

Yeah, okay, his mind hummed, one day. We can do it one day.