Work Text:
Unbeknownst to Richie, the time is 4:23 AM. He’s been awake for the past two hours, laying on Stan’s bedroom floor in his sleeping bag, listening to all his friends sleep. They all fell asleep hours ago, but for some reason, Richie can’t sleep. He went to the bathroom, and drank some water, and even tried counting sheep. Nothing.
A distant part of his mind supplies him an answer, though he shuts it out and refuses to even entertain the idea of listening. Shut the fuck up.
His eyes flick over to the dark, blurry shape of Eddie next to him. He’s on his side, facing away from Richie, unusually still. He has been for a while. He takes a deep breath, trying to still his nerves, and he sees Eddie move a little.
“Eds?” Richie whispers, looking away from Eddie, back up at the ceiling, but hoping his voice still travels enough for his friend to hear. “Are you awake?”
Eddie doesn’t respond, and Richie thinks for a moment that maybe he was wrong, and Eddie is asleep. But after a long moment his soft voice replies, “Yeah.”
“I can’t sleep.” Richie says, unsure of what else to say. He makes sure to keep his voice low, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s not hard; Eddie is laying only two feet away, so he doesn’t need to be too loud.
“I know. You’ve been sighing for hours. And quit calling me that.” Eddie mumbles. There’s only a small hint of complaint in his voice.
“Oh, sugah, ahm sawrry. When I have ya on my mind ah just can’t stop sighing. You make me lovesick, mah deah.” Richie says, sporting a southern belle sort of accent. “Did ah keep you awake? Dahling, ahm sawrry, I really am.”
Richie can hear Eddie trying to hide his laugh, his giggle muffled by his pillow. “Shut up, Richie.”
“Oi, is that a propah way to talk to ya mate?” Richie gasps, now using a British accent. “Right a rude plate of spaghetti you are!”
“Shut up!” Eddie complains. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
Richie just smiles. He pauses to think their conversation through. “Did I really keep you awake?”
“No.” Eddie says, voice so quiet Richie almost didn’t hear it.
“Then why are you up? Mrs. K is gonna have an ulcer if she finds out you’re off your schedule.”
Eddie’s shoulders scrunch up. “I don’t care.”
That’s new. Usually there’s always some distaste, however mild, for the bullshit Eddie’s mom makes him do, especially after he found out about the placebos. He’s never expressed apathy about it before. Richie bites his bottom lip, chewing thoughtfully, making his lips already more chapped.
“Did she do something?” He dares to ask.
Eddie sighs. “No.”
It’s July. No school. They’re with friends. Tomorrow they’re gonna see that new robot movie at the theater. His mother isn’t acting up—at least not more than usual. What the hell could keep him awake? They’ve slept on this floor before. Same sleeping bags, same carpet, same pillow and blankets. It can’t be that he’s uncomfortable.
Richie can’t seem to figure it out himself, so he finally asks Eddie directly. “Why are you up?”
“Why are you?” Eddie shoots back.
“Geeez. I dunno. Just can’t sleep.” Richie shrugs. “I stay up late all the time. Maybe I’m just used to it. What’s your excuse?”
Eddie sighs again. Ben snorts in his sleep, and the two of them freeze, holding their breaths. Ben shuffles a little on the floor and then rolls over, his breathing evening out again.
When the coast is clear, Eddie says, “I just… got stuff on my mind, I guess.”
Richie’s stomach churns, thinking about the only two possible things that could keep his own mind racing at night. “Is it about—”
“No.” Eddie says quickly. “N-No, not… not that.”
“Oh.” Richie purses his lips. “Okay. Um. Well, if you wanna… talk… or anything. I’m here.”
“Thanks.” Eddie says awkwardly. Then, after a pause, “Are you thinking about… that?”
“I wasn’t till now.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s been four years. It doesn’t scare me anymore.” Richie says, though that’s a lie. He still has nightmares. He knows all of them do. He’s not so sure why he’s afraid to admit it.
“It still scares me.” Richie can hear Eddie swallow.
“You know I’d never let anything happen to you, Eds.” Richie says immediately. “We killed that motherfucker. But—but even if that bitch isn’t dead, you know I’d never let it get near you again.” He reconsiders his words. His voice becomes more lighthearted. “Um, none of us would, I mean. We’re all here to protect each other.”
Minutes pass, and nothing. He nervously drums his fingers against his stomach, wondering if what he said could be seen as anything but platonic. Richie begins to think Eddie’s really fallen asleep, and he’s about to roll over when he hears his friend stir.
“I was thinking about Ben’s girlfriend.” Eddie’s voice sounds timid. “Her best friend is Angie Glover.”
Richie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Uh. Yeah, I guess.”
“Angie called me a—” Eddie hesitates. “A queer, back in 6th grade. Her boyfriend threw a basketball at my head during gym.”
Richie’s first reaction should be concern, but instead it’s anger. He didn’t know that. Eddie never mentioned something like that ever happening. “I’m gonna kick his ass.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.
Eddie breaks into a fit of laughter, gasping and shoving his face as deep into his pillow as he can, desperately trying to hold back his amusement as to not wake anyone else. Richie’s ears burn, embarrassed, but he smiles. At least he got Eddie to laugh. That’s all he really wants. “What? You don’t think I could? Am I not a worthy enough knight for you, my princess?”
Eddie tries to respond, but he just keeps giggling, shaking his head. His body is shaking with the effort to keep himself quiet.
Richie grins, now. He fake pouts, even though Eddie can’t see him. “What’s wrong with me? Is it cause my dick’s too big?”
Eddie kicks his feet, letting out a choked snort, rolling over to finally face Richie. Eddie smacks his shoulder, and Richie chuckles with him. Eddie’s dark eyes stare back at him, filled with amusement. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
“Oh just you wait, baby, the pain won’t last long.”
Even in the dark, Richie can see the flush on Eddie’s face. The moonlight coming in through the window makes his blush visible. “Beep beep, Richie. Um… anyways, I just… was thinking about that. Well, first just about Ben and his girlfriend, but then Angie and her boyfriend. And the basketball.”
“You jealous?” Richie tilts his head. “Jennifer is kinda hot.” He’s referring to Ben’s girlfriend.
Eddie’s face falls. “Oh. Um… no. I’m happy for him. I just…”
“Want it too?” Richie’s jaw clenches. His chest aches in a way all too familiar. “A girlfriend? For yourself?”
Eddie’s looking at him nervously. “I want… a relationship. I guess.”
Richie looks back up at the ceiling, giving another millionth sigh. “Yeah, well… don’t sweat it so much. You’re not the only one.”
“You want a girlfriend?”
“I want a... relationship.” He mimics Eddie’s words.
“I didn’t think you wanted something like that.” Eddie says quietly. He sounds like this means something to him. Richie glances over. Eddie’s playing with the hem of his blanket, eyes closed, face troubled. “I mean… it just always seemed like…”
“I’m capable of being more than funny, you know.” Richie’s voice feels thick in his throat.
Eddie’s eyes shoot open. “That’s not what I meant, I just—you’ve never really… aside from passing comments, shown interest in anybody.”
Richie shrugs. “Neither do you.”
His eyes widen, and he looks away, not meeting Richie’s eyes. “That’s different.”
“What do you mean?” Some part of Richie knows it’s nonsense. He knows what people say, and yeah, sometimes he sees it, but… they can’t be right. It’s just rumors. It’s not true. He’s only three seconds into this thought process before he knows he’s wrong. Eddie’s expression says everything he needs to know. Richie’s face softens. “Oh.”
Eddie’s voice sounds a little strangled. “Yeah.”
“Well, I guess I’m gonna have some words with this guy.” Richie sighs. Eddie’s looking at him curiously. “To fight for your hand, of course. I dunno, Eds, but I think I’m quite too fond of my spaghetti. Not too keen on sharing. A selfish prick, aren’t I? This chap better be a real stunner. Fuck, he better knock me off my feet.”
“I don’t think you two would get along.” Eddie smiles down at his hands again, still fiddling with his blanket. “Your egos are both enormous. You’re both idiots.”
Part of Richie wants to scream, or roll over and go to sleep and pretend this is not happening. He doesn’t want to hear about Eddie’s crush. He wants to pretend this mystery man doesn’t exist. And he definitely does not want to hear about how they wouldn’t even get along.
But he keeps his mouth shut, and Eddie keeps going. “Actually, you’ve known him longer than I have. He’s a real great guy.”
“Stan?!”
Eddie slaps a hand over Richie’s mouth, looking terrified and shaking his head. That was way too loud. Stan grumbles in his sleep. “What, Mommy?”
Richie bites down on the inside of his cheek. He licks Eddie’s palm, who recoils it in disgust, and then says, in his best impersonation of Stan’s mother—which, to tell the truth, is absolutely dreadful. “Stanny baby, when are you getting married? I know you’re in love with that dear Richie boy, but it’s time you settle down and finally marry a young lady. Richie would look just awful in a dress.”
Stan’s face scrunches up. He looks annoyed and upset. “I don’t wanna marry Richie, Mommy.”
Controlling their laughter seems almost impossible now. Eddie and Richie cling to each other, silently shaking, faces screwed up in pure glee. It’s late, and something as stupid as Stan talking in his sleep has them reeling, gasping for breath, blankets and shirts clenched tight in their fists, desperately trying to regain their breath and calm down. Richie laughs so hard he thinks he’s gonna fart, and when he tells Eddie this, through choked sobs, Eddie starts crying, he’s laughing so hard.
“Shut the fuck uppppp!” Beverly groans from her spot by their feet, throwing her spare pillow at them. She lays back down with a huff, pulling the blankets over her head. The two of them freeze, and then giggle some more, quickly calming down after that. Eddie takes the pillow and shoves it down into his sleeping bag.
“It’s good for my posture.” He explains softly at Richie’s look, tucking it between his legs.
Richie just rolls his eyes. Once Eddie is finished getting adjusted, he looks back up, and Richie realizes just how much closer they got to each other during their laughing fit. They’re not much more than half a foot apart. He would think there would be tension, but there isn’t any. It’s easy. It’s natural. It feels right to be this close.
Eddie squeezes Richie’s hand lightly, making him aware for the first time that they were even holding hands in the first place. “He calls me stupid names. I always tell him I hate it, but he says them anyway. I think it’s because he knows I don’t actually hate it.”
Richie’s breath hitches. His heart is beating wildly in his chest. “It makes him feel closer to you. To have names to call you that nobody else uses for you but him.”
“I’ve been so afraid for so long.” Eddie whispers. “That I’d never… get to say anything. That he’d hate me.”
“No,” Richie mumbles, reaching up with his free hand to hold Eddie’s shoulder. His hand travels up to his neck, then his face, cupping his cheek. “Never… I’d… Eds, he’d never hate you.”
Eddie closes his eyes. He only looks mildly less stressed despite the reassurance. “But is he really sure? I mean, we wouldn’t be able to do things like Ben and Jennifer and I—I’d just be holding him back, there are so many other—”
“Eddie,” Richie grabs his best friend’s face in both his hands. He doesn’t think it through. He doesn’t need to. He leans in and kisses him, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. When he pulls away, eyes opening, Eddie’s eyes are staring right back at him. “Shut up. I love you, too, you fucking dumbass.”
Eddie grins, and Richie can’t help but grin back. “You do?”
“Since forevah, sugah. Since the day ah saw you on my dear papa’s farm.” He confirms, which gets him a playful shove. “Hair a-glistenin’ all purrty like that. Why, you was the cutest thing I ever saw.”
And then, in his normal voice. “Still are.”
“Beep beep.” Eddie mumbles, tucking his face into Richie’s chest. Richie smiles, running a hand through Eddie’s hair.
When all the other losers wake up before Eddie and Richie to see them asleep and clinging to each other, they decide to just let them sleep.