𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗘, reddie

035. lucca

EDDIE walked back into the hotel room with two coffees in hand to see that Richie had been already awake, intently watching a rerun of Friends on the TV.

"Brooklyn-99 is better," Eddie commented, causing Richie to flinch, not realizing that his friend was present until that moment.

After a beat that was spent with Richie silently staring at him, Eddie moved closer and set the extra coffee on the stand between their beds. "I got you a coffee."

With a tight lipped smile, still beautiful as he always was, Richie glanced at the cup before scooting over to it and grabbing it into his hand. "Thanks," He responded, an aim for casualty, but an unfortunate miss.

The tension was thick as Eddie toed off his shoes to discard them at the foot of the bed, moving towards Richie's instead of his own.

Clearing his throat with certainty, he make eye contact with Richie — "Can we talk, please?" He asked, sounding as desperate as he felt.

With a gentle nod, Richie moved over to give Eddie some room to sit down, but they still sat closer than they'd acknowledge.

Richie somehow stared at Eddie like he was the most beautiful and the most terrifying being in the world. Like he held the universe in one hand and Richie's heart in the other.

"I like you, Richie," He said, again, but just as much of a confession as the first time around, "But I'm not willing to do this," He motioned between them, "if it's just going to end the second we go back home."

Richie finally straightened up from his place on the comfortable bed, almost appearing hurt at the implications that fell from Eddie's lips.

"Hey, what, Eds, no," He stumbled quickly, touching Eddie's arm with his one free hand, "Hey, I want you. I've wanted you since forever, okay? That's not gonna just go away 'cause I got you."

"Okay," Eddie responded, maintaining eye contact, moving just a bit closer to Richie on the bed, covers wrinkling beneath them, "Well then you have me. Any way you want."

Richie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, the beginning of a dirty joke on his tongue, but Eddie quickly covered his mouth to mute it; "Dont," He said, teasingly.

Richie licked his palm and Eddie squeaked and wiped off the very sparse saliva onto his pajama bottoms dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, well, this is our last full day together," Eddie said slowly, biting his lip and hoping it was obvious how he stared down at Richie's mouth, "How do you want to spend it —!"

He was cut off by Richie leaning forward and pressing their lips together, giggling in the kiss, separating after only three seconds when he nearly spilled his drink.

"God, warn a guy, asshole," He said while laughing, taking a sip of his drink before leaving it on the table between the beds, watching Richie do the same.

After a moment, they both giggled like a couple of preteen girls sharing secrets beneath the covers at a sleepover, leaning forward and pressing their lips together again.

It was chaste; one of Eddie's hands against his cheek and the other against his shoulder, both of Richie's hands gently pressing into the curves of his torso.

It was soft and gentle and one of the best things the both of them had ever experienced.

RICHIE sat at the end of Beverly's bed with her, watching as she painted his nails a shade of dark purple that evening. Eddie had went with Mike to grab something for them all to eat up in Stan and Beverly's hotel room.

The sun was just beginning to fall on the horizon, the lights on in the hotel room, artificial lighting competing with the dim glow of the sun.

"Did you and Eddie work stuff out?" Beverly inquired as she coated Richie's nails in the polish, Stan sitting on his own bed playing a game on his phone.

Occasionally his phone would make a noise or he'd hum in excitement when he passed a level.

Richie looked from where the brush wiped along his nails up to her face, watching as she bit her tongue in concentration. "Yeah, sort of," He replied simply, and she furrowed her eyebrows up at him.

Her blue eyes glimmered with confusion as they stared at his face — little flecks of aqua green swam around her irises, and he assumed she just simply held the ocean in her eyes.

"Sort of?" She'd asked, pushing some of her red hair from her face and behind her ear, where it fell over her shoulder. It was calm and smooth from her conditioner, wavy from the curlers she liked to put in it while she slept at night.

Beverly was almost magical, all-knowing, and he felt like any rule she made was just meant to be followed. If Richie didn't have her, he didn't know where he'd be right now.

He scoffed at the question a little, but not really in annoyance. "We talked about how there's something," He said, shrugging a little bit but not enough to obstruct her work, "We didn't really talk about what that makes us."

She looked up at him again, more incredulously, shifting a bit on the mattress so that she could focus her pretty blue eyes on him fully, leaving the polish toppled over on the sheets. "Wait, so you made out like, twice—"

"We did not make out!"

"And confessed your undying love for each other and still won't just call yourself boyfriends?" Her words made his mouth a bit dry, and he looked down into his lap embarrassedly.

When she said it like that, it really made his fears seem minuscule; what was he so afraid of?

He shrugged again, more defeated this time, and she shook her head, staring at him with a knowing expression on her face.

"Richie," She said with her hand on his leg comfortingly, and he looked back up at her again, "Ask him out."

Before their conversation could carry on, the sound of the door being pushed open hummed through the room, followed by the sound of plastic bags.

In walked Mike and Eddie holding bags of food for the group — they placed the bags on the bed next to Stan, but he must've been in an intense level because he hadn't even flinched.

It was hard for Richie not to notice the way that Eddie stared over at him almost wistfully, and he tried to distract himself from the expression by jumping up and grabbing his food from the bag.

Richie's nails weren't even fully polished — he was missing dark purple on his left pinky, which he wouldn't notice until the next morning.

As he stared over at Eddie, who sat a few feet away from him next to Mike on Stan's bed, he thought about Beverly Marsh and how everything she said just had to be followed.

She'd said to ask Eddie to be his boyfriend, and Richie Tozier was going to listen.

Just, maybe not right now.