Chapter Text
It was like a sleepover from when they were kids. Well, not quite, considering they were all middle aged and had responsibilities that ran a little deeper than "get good grades" and "don't ride your bike in traffic." But with all of them packing into the hotel room - with only a few raised eyebrows from the staff, as they asked for extra pillows and blankets - it did feel, almost, if they were only to close their eyes and pretend, like they were little kids again. It was certainly familiar enough.
They took up what spaces they could on the floor, with Stan and Patricia claiming the room's bed (under the logic that it was their room and that they were the ones paying for it, when less than serious objections were raised) and Beverly laying claim to the singular cot that the group had managed to acquire. It was, all things considered, a rather tight fit for the whole group, but it wasn't as if anyone was willing to leave to make up space.
Richie took up a spot by the bed, angled enough to see the others as they settled into their own spots on the floor. The room buzzed softly with chatter as they got ready for the night, which Richie suspected might stretch into all hours in the morning just as sleepovers had when they were kids. And that felt alright, gentle and airy and yes, teetering a little bit on the knife's edge in a way that perched at the very edges of their mind. But that was familiar in its way, too, though one they could do without.
It wasn't long until Eddie, with his usual dead set determination, took up position next to Richie. Easing in closer than expected, not saying a word even as Richie's breath caught in his throat and his mind screamed for him to find another place to spend the night. And as instincts buried into him, ones that were hard to shake off even with confessions and reassurances of friendship that still left his chest feeling lighter than it had ever been, he propped himself onto his elbows to move. Eddie shot him one of his looks, eyes narrowed and lips pulled in a tight line like he was preparing to go off on some rant or another.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Eddie said, instead of whatever long winded rant Richie had half expected.
It still might be brewing, he thought dimly, staring at Eddie with something of a slack jawed expression. He closed his mouth with an audible snap of teeth and he forced a carefree smile.
"Going to find somewhere else to sleep?" he offered, voice a little weaker than he intended. He pointed towards open space near Ben and Bill, that wouldn't be so cramped. So close to touching Eddie.
Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled Richie back down so they were lying on their stomachs side by side. Arms touched arms, Richie's bare skin tingling at every point of contact until he was sure he had actual goosebumps. "Fuck off," Eddie said, "It's too cold on the floor to sleep by yourself."
There was a pause, Richie working his mouth as he tried to find something to say. The words all stuck in his throat, snagging there like things with thorns. Even jokes died before they could emerge, and eventually he managed a soft, almost strangled, "Are you sure? Even with...?" He trailed off, giving a vague wave of his hand.
A hush fell over the room, so quiet that the shifting of blankets and bodies echoed like thunder. Richie's face burned and he wished so desperately that he could take that back. But the thought of it really did twist in his gut, gnawing away at him.
For the briefest of moments Richie could have sworn a look of concern, of sadness and worry that ran differently than his usual kind, crossed Eddie's face. Only for it to be replaced with his look of mild exasperation and annoyance. "No shit, dumbass," he snapped, and he drove and elbow into Richie's ribs as best he could with the awkward angle they had. "If that was an issue I would've picked somewhere else."
Richie could only manage a deep, stiff nod, the tension in his shoulders he had become so used to having that he didn't even realize was there easing into almost nothing. There was, and he suspected always would be, some part of him that still expected the explosive fallout. But Eddie was there, next to him, wonderful in that closeness and in the sensation of touch. And it was, at least just for that moment, all okay.