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“Eddie! Take your lunch now, yeah?” Angie said as she swooped past him to head for the soy milk. Eddie looked around at the sea of people waiting for drinks and widened his eyes a little.
“Are you serious?” Eddie asked, “It’s kinda busy Ange.” She just nodded and sighed.
“Yes. I know, but it is only going to get busier and if I don’t tell you to take one now, I never will so. Go.” She allowed before calling out the drink order in her hands. Eddie sighed and went to log out of his register before grabbing his food. His favorite chair by the window was miraculously open, so he went over to take his lunch there. He settled into the seat, curling his feet underneath him and pulling out his phone, slipping his headphones in so he could play his favorite podcast.
Eddie adored podcasts. He loved that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted and just listen. And The Loser’s Guide to the Galaxy was his favorite… and not because he sort of maybe had a crush on the main guy. It was two people who lead it, Richie and Bev. They didn’t give last names, for whatever reason, but they made Eddie laugh like nothing else. They were obviously best friends and their back and forth was teasing but fond and endlessly funny. Their guests were always funny too, whether they genuinely wanted to offer the viewers advice, like Ben, or if they were just there to fuck around, like Bill. Eddie loved it.
Hey, everyone. This is Bev here and Richie can’t currently talk because eating a sandwich is more important than doing his goddamn job.
I told you not to start without me, what the hell!
Believe it or not, we are on a schedule. The world doesn’t stop because someone brought Richie a sandwich.
It can maybe be paused for five minutes though, because I’m huNGRY.
Yeah, keep chewing Rich, I bet our listeners love to hear that.
Eddie giggled under his breath when Richie started making pretty disgusting noises into the microphone, much to Bev’s dismay.
Sometimes I wonder why you still let me be a part of this, Bevvie.
Because your humor is unparalleled I guess.
Richie laughed and Eddie’s heart did a little swoop, because man that laugh was sweet. Not a lot of what Richie said was genuine; it was usually a joke or teasing or a character, but his laugh was so real.
I guess it’s because I’m the best goddamn thing that ever happened to this company.
I guess it’s because no one has ever come near to how good you are or even close to your level of genius.
Well fuck, don’t ever let me go, Bev.
I won’t, Rich. What fool would do such a thing?
What goddamn fool of a man would ever let me go?
Not me. Not me… Okay, enough of that, welcome to The Losers’ Guide to the Galaxy, the only advice podcast hosted by us, Bev and Richie. We don’t know why you want our advice, but we are going to give it to you…
Eddie had taken a big bite of his sandwich and settled into his chair, excited to hear the first question they were going to answer, when someone coughed loudly next to him. He looked up slowly, still chewing, and internally groaned when he saw the old white man who’s order he had taken about fifteen minutes ago, staring down at him with raised eyebrows and an angry face.
Oh fuck me.
“Yes sir?”
###
Richie had been not-so-subtly staring at the boy sitting by the window since… literally the moment he walked into the Starbucks. And first of all, okay, don’t judge him for being at Starbucks. Yes, it is bougie as fuck. Yes, some people might call it basic and over-done, but Richie had a cold. He had been coughing and hacking for a few days and he had had enough. So he wanted one of those medicine ball things that Bev had mentioned to him, because he was losing his voice.
He, Richie Tozier, was losing. His. Voice.
His whole job was his voice, his whole life was his fucking voice. He never stopped talking, that was his fucking trademark. So, he dragged himself to the Starbucks down the block from the recording studio and forced himself to drink tea, so that he could do the show he refused to miss. And when he’d walked in, he’d seen an angel sitting by the window, the cutest fucker he’d ever seen. Just sitting there, eating food and sipping on coffee and changing Richie’s whole goddamn life. Richie stared at him as he waited in line, as he ordered his drink, and now he was waiting at the bar, waiting for his drink and summoning the courage to say something.
It was just… he had headphones on, you know? Richie wasn’t an idiot, he knew headphones meant “don’t talk to me asshole! I wanna be mega-alone!” and so what was he supposed to do? The decision he came to was that he was supposed to stare for a long time and imagine a bunch of different scenarios in which the two of them meet and fall in love.
A bunch of meet-cute AU’s, one might call them.
Right as Richie had decided he was gonna throw caution to the wind and walk over there, someone else beat him to it. Some old man. The flawless, beautiful boy looked up at the old, disgusting man with wide eyes and… oh that was a pretty look. Mona Lisa who? This boy had a face worth remembering, long lashes, flushed cheeks, semi-open pink lips, what the fuck. Richie was smitten. He got so caught up in admiring that face, he didn’t notice that someone was being mean. He didn’t notice until the boy’s face morphed into one of poorly concealed annoyance and distress.
“I’m sorry about that sir, but I’m actually on my break, so you’ll have to talk to someone who’s working.” The boy explained, voice dripping with that fake customer service bullshit kindness. Poor guy.
“Well, I don’t think that should matter when a customer is upset. I need someone to do something about this, I am lactose intolerant, son.” Oldie snapped and Richie glared at him, because he was really really ruining this moment for Richie. He was having a come-to-Jesus thing, because of this guy’s face, but he couldn’t exactly enjoy it with the crypt keeper killing his buzz.
“I completely understand, sir, and I am so sorry that happened, but I am legally required to take a lunch. And I’m not allowed to work while I’m on it, but if you just grab someone behind the counter-”
“I’m not talking to people behind the counter, I am talking to you! You took my order and I want you to take responsibility for this.” He said and somehow the boy’s eyes got even wider. He looked like an angel deer in the devil’s headlights.
“Well, I didn’t make your drink, sir-”
“And also, while we’re at it, it is so messy out here. This store is disgusting! Can’t you go grab a broom, or a trashcan, since this table is covered in trash-”
“That’s my lunch, sir-”
“Don’t interrupt me, that is so rude!” Oldie snapped. The boy blanched and wow, there was really no reasoning with this guy. No person who had to abide by the rules of customer service at the risk of losing their job could handle this… luckily, Richie was none of those things.
“Hey, dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Richie said, bounding across the short distance between his seat and the pair arguing. His voice was disgusting and scratchy but whatever, he could get his point across. Both of them looked at him incredulously, although that was only a change for the old man. The boy had looked like he didn’t know what the fuck was going since the moment this asshole walked over.
“Excuse me? I was not talking to you, son.”
“Really? Because with how loud you were talking it kind of felt like you were including the whole goddamn store in your conversation.” Richie laughed when the man’s face turned red.
“I was just trying to get a little service here.” The man said and Richie immediately scoffed.
“No, you were being a dick to a very cute guy who is being paid minimum wage to make your fucking coffee and be nice to you. And who really doesn’t deserve this shit, especially from a guy who looks like a literal ballsack.” Richie said and the boy on the chair barked out a laugh, covering his mouth quickly. Richie looked over at him and winked as the man in front of him attempted a spluttered response. “I’m serious though, if your face looks like that… I don’t know even wanna know what your balls look like, man.”
“Are you going to let him speak to me this way?” Oldie asked Cutie and the boy looked between them both with wide eyes before shrugging.
“The customer is always right?” he said in the end, making Richie laugh loudly, which sounded pretty gross because his voice was still all scratchy but he couldn’t stop. The boy looked up at him with a small smile pulling on his lips, even as the man made a fuss while he started to leave, yelling about how they’d lost his business and kids these days were so obnoxious and how he hadn’t been laid since 1975 or something like that. That’s what Richie heard at least.
“You alright?” Richie asked the boy. He moved to sit down next to him when he smiled at him again (a little because it was the polite thing to do, so that he wasn’t looking down at him, and a little because that smile made him weak in the knees).
“Yeah, um, thank you for that. He was an asshole.” The boy said and Richie nodded.
“Seriously. You gotta be a real sociopath to yell at a face like yours.” Richie teased, smiling widely when the boy blushed.
“Shut up.” He said, shaking his head a little, “So do you make it a habit of saving people in the service industry? Or was it just because of my face?”
“Well, it’s a little bit of both. I can’t really resist the opportunity to fight and also… yeah, you looked like an adorable damsel in distress. I had to swoop in.”
“OH, wow, you’re such a hero. What would the world do without you?” he teased, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. Richie laughed and shrugged.
“I shudder to think.” Richie said in response and the boy just rolled his eyes.
“You have a pretty high opinion of yourself, I see.”
“I’m really glad you see it that way, that is the exact front I try to put up in order to blind people to my debilitating insecurities.” Richie explained, making the boy laugh again. Richie figured at this point there were actual stars in his eyes.
“Well you’re doing a great job. Really top notch acting.” The boy said, biting his full bottom lip as he stared at Richie. Richie opened his mouth to say something else, who knew? To ask for his number or his name or if he was free that night, but he was cut off.
“Eddie?” the lady behind the counter called out, “Can you clock back in? We’re dying without you, babe.” The boy, Eddie, looked down at his watch and stood up quickly.
“Yeah, Ange, I’ll be there in a sec.” he bent over to grab his trash off the table (and Richie did not check out his nice ass, no he did not… how did he know it was nice then? Shut up, Richie resents that line of questioning), “So I’ll… what was your name again?”
“Richie.” He offered quickly, probably too quick, but oh fucking well.
“Richie,” Eddie whispered fondly, “I’ll see you around?”
“I will definitely be returning to this Starbucks.” Richie said assuredly.
“Good. I’ll need my knight in shining armor.” Eddie smiled widely before turning around and leaving.
Richie absolutely did a victory dance.
###
“Hey Stan, I’m back!” Eddie said as he set his stuff down in the kitchen, thanking God that his morning shift was finally over. He collapsed on the couch and finally breathed out a sigh of relief. His feet ached and his back was sore as fuck. He also reeked of coffee.
“Hey Eddie.” Stan called back, emerging from his room still in pajamas and carrying his laptop with him. Eddie eyed him with envy.
“Wow, did you just wake up sleepyhead?” Eddie teased and Stan smiled widely at him.
“About forty-five minutes ago, thank you very much.”
“I hate you.” Eddie groaned and Stan just laughed. He was a sous chef at an upscale restaurant downtown so he worked late nights while Eddie worked early mornings.
“No you don’t. Want me to make you lunch?” he asked from the kitchen. Eddie groaned out in happiness.
“Yes please, I love you.”
“See, I knew it. How was your shift?” Stan asked. Eddie’s face was squished in a pillow, but he could hear Stan pull down pans from their cabinet and he said a little prayer of thanks for the fact that he had such an amazing roommate.
“Eh. It was alright. An old white guy yelled at me but then a really cute guy defended me when I couldn’t defend myself. It was beautiful.” Eddie responded, sighing slightly dreamily at the memory of the boy.
“Really? What did he say?”
“He called him a ballsack.” Eddie breathed.
“Yeah, that’s the stuff of dreams.” Stan called back with a scoff. “Hey, are you gonna fall asleep or can I tell you about this guy I met?”
“I’m definitely not going to fall asleep.” Eddie said, smacking his lips softly.
“Okay, so I met this guy Mike at the restaurant last night…”
And then Eddie fell asleep.
When he woke up again, it was because something smelled amazing and he vaguely felt like someone’s gaze boring into his soul. When he blinked his eyes open and looked up, he saw Stan, sitting on the armchair across from him with a plate of chicken carbonara, staring at Eddie with blank eyes as he ate.
“Did I fall asleep?” he asked sheepishly. Stan just took a big bite of food and nodded. “I’m sorry, Stan. I’m a big baby.” He groaned and Stan rolled his eyes.
“There’s more on the stove for you, that I so graciously left.” Stan said through his chewing. Eddie stretched out his arms and legs with a groan followed by adamant thanks. Right as he stood up to go eat, his phone rang in his pocket.
“‘Ello?” Eddie answered with a yawn.
“Eddie Kaspbrak?” the voice asked.
“This is he.” Eddie croaked, scratching his tummy as he moved into the kitchen. He didn’t even grab a plate, just grabbed a fork out of the drawer and stuffed his face with a bunch of pasta.
“This is Reinhard from Del Sol Winery. I was calling about the apprentice job?” he said and Eddie choked on his swallow, coughing and spluttering loudly.
“Oh! Reinhard, sir, it’s so good to hear from you!” he said, jumping up and down towards Stan, grabbing him off the couch in his excitement. Stan looked at him like he was out of his mind, trying to balance his plate as Eddie pulled him up and then immediately ran away.
“Same to you, Eddie. I was calling to let you know that we’d be happy to take you on here. You’re welcome to come in on Monday, fill out some paperwork and get started.” He said and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice. He felt like he was gonna scream. This was his DREAM. JOB. Working right underneath a professional wine maker? God, he didn’t care how pretentious it sounded, he was so fucking excited.
“That sounds amazing sir! Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.” Eddie managed through his shock. They worked out what time he would come in and all the little details and then hung up. Eddie felt like his head was spinning.
“Was that the winery?” Stan asked after Eddie was quiet for a long moment. Eddie turned to his best friend with a wide grin.
“We are so getting drunk tonight.” Eddie laughed and Stan let out a celebratory whoop before tackling Eddie in a hug.
###
Eddie fucking loved his new job. He didn’t have to work with one. Single. Customer. It was a goddamn dream. He’d been working out in the vines that day, so his feet were a little sore and his cheeks a little sunburned, but it was so worth it. He was finally doing something that he actually cared about and it was revolutionary. The only drawback of the whole deal was… he had to quit Starbucks. And it’s not what you’re thinking, it isn’t that he liked his coworkers or that he felt bad for leaving his asshole boss high and dry, it was because of him. The cute boy with the adorable curls and the snarky mouth, who said that he was going to go back there and visit him. And of course… Eddie wouldn’t be there. But what was he supposed to do? Not take his dream job so that he could make out with one boy? Pssshh, Eddie wasn’t that crazy. So instead he just spent his time daydreaming about running into the boy in the most romantic of ways, like bumping into each other on a street corner or in traffic or in a crowded bar.
But even despite his daydreams, he had to let that go. And at least he had his amazing new job, which he wanted to tell Stan all about. So, when he got off at 4, he headed straight to Stan’s restaurant, grabbing a couple smoothies for the two of them.
When he got there, Stan was already waiting outside for him, looking down at his phone with his headphones in.
“Stan!” Eddie called and the boy looked up at him with a smile, squinting against the setting sun.
“Hey Eddie, guess what I’m listening to?” Stan said with a cheeky smile. Eddie just raised his eyebrows in question as he took a sip of his smoothie, “That podcast you like so much, the Losers Guide one? They came out with a new one today.”
“Oh fuck, its Thursday! I totally forgot!” Eddie said, swallowing quickly and grabbing one of Stan’s headphones to put in his own ear. Usually, yes, this would disgust him, but it was Stan. Stan barely even had germs.
Sometimes I just go into tunnel vision, you know? But like the opposite of that… like I -
Like you have binoculars on backwards?
Yes! I zone out and I get in this creative zone and then I yell something out… in this case, barnacle grapefruit and then I wake up and I’m like… what the friggen f am I doing?
The friggen f?
Yeah
What does the second f stand for, Rich?
Fuck.
What the friggen fuck? That’s what friggen means I –
Well, yeah I didn’t want to curse too much
“Wait,” Eddie cut-in, realization dawning on him, “That’s not a guest? That’s Richie?” Stan nodded.
“Yeah, he said he had a cold or something? Lost his voice.” Stan explained and Eddie felt his jaw drop.
“Oh my God. It was him.”
###
Richie sulked into the studio, carrying the fifth fucking tea he had bought in a week. He’d gone into that Starbucks every day, hoping to see the cute barista again, but he missed him each fucking time. He was starting to think he was cursed or something.
“Hey Rich.” Bev said with a smile much too wide. Richie glared at her as he plopped down into his chair, in front of microphone. “Geez, another Starbucks? Didn’t know you liked them that much.” She sounded smug too and Richie’s glare intensified.
“I hate you.” He muttered. Bev knew exactly why he was going to Starbucks so much and it wasn’t because he had suddenly won the lottery and could afford it.
“Stop being so fucking grumpy,” Bev scolded, leaning over to kiss the top of his head, “Come on, I think you’re gonna like these questions.” Bev insisted. Richie only grunted, slouching down in his chair and bitterly sipping his tea.
“Hey guys, thanks for tuning in this week. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a special one. This is Bev and next to me is Richie, bitterly sipping his fifth Starbucks of the week. If you don’t know, this is The Losers’ Guide to the Galaxy, the only advice podcast online that is hosted by the two of us.” Richie sat up straighter in his chair and leaned towards the mic, preparing to phone in some energy for the next hour and a half.
“People write into us, wanting our help in their love lives, their work lives, their family lives, and we give advice. Because… we are the most unqualified people, our lives are a mess, and people want to know how we do it, you know?”
“Yeah, exactly. We tell people what to do and … they listen because they want other people to mess up their lives.” Bev said, making Richie chuckle.
“They’re so used to messing up their own life, they finally want the burden relieved from their shoulders. They want someone else to take the blame… for the fuck ups that will inevitably follow.” Richie clarified.
“Yes… so please write in with your problems, email at [email protected] and we might put you up on air, here. Anyway, our first story here is a special one. We actually have the person who wrote in, here in the studio, he will join us after we read the paragraph,” Bev said and Richie stared at her, because why wasn’t he aware of this? He didn’t know they were having a guest on, and they never had a listener join them. What the fuck? “So, here we go. What’s our fake name for this one, Rich? If you don’t know, we come up with fake names to give some air of anonymity.”
“Princess Leia.” Richie said immediately and Bev grimaced.
“It’s actually a guy who wrote in.”
“I don’t care. Fuck gender norms.”
“Shit, you’re right. You’re right, okay. Here we go. Princess Leia writes: “So, hello, my name is “Princess Leia”. Last week, I met this super cute guy at the Starbucks that I used to work at. I was on my break and this White Man™ came up and yelled at me about utter nonsense for like 5 minutes and then this guy, like the most fucked up knight in shining armor ever, told the prick he looked like a ballsack and saved me. It was… romantic, to say the least. Definitely sexually charged. And he promised he would come in and see me again but then, well I quit. And all that I know about him is that his name is Richie, he had a scratchy voice, maybe like he was sick? And that he had the biggest trashmouth of anyone I had ever met. Tell me, if you were me, how would you find him? What would you do?” What do you think Richie?” Bev asked, face smug as fuck. Richie couldn’t talk, for once in his fucking life, his jaw was just open and silent.
“Should we bring Princess Leia out?” Bev offered and Richie literally shot out of his chair, staring at the door starting to open.
“Eddie.” He breathed when the boy walked into the room, hands in his pockets and looking shy and adorable and perfect.
“Hey, Rich. So, funny story. I kinda quit my job, so I had to come to yours. Hope you don’t mind?” Eddie offered and Richie barked out a laugh. Then he sat back down in his chair and leaned into his mic.
“So, Princess Leia. If I were you, the next time I saw this Richie guy… I would just make out with him. Really hard.” Richie laughed loudly when Eddie flipped him off. “Or maybe just ask him out? I think he definitely wants to go on a date with you.”
“Well, that I can do.” So he did.