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Letting Myra keep the house was one of the easiest decisions of Eddie's life. The memories in that house were not the ones that he wanted to carry into the next chapter of his life. The art she carefully picked and hung on the walls over the years were practically tombstones now. All he saw were ghosts when he walked the hallways the time that went into the house to pack up the belongings that wanted to keep.
"You brought him here! How could you bring that man into our house, Eddie, after everything he's done!" Myra wailed. Her face was red and bloated from the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.
"After what he's done? That man saved my life."
Those were the last words that Eddie ever spoke to Myra. After that, all their correspondence was done through lawyers. Occasionally, someone would send him a screenshot of a facebook status where she ranted about the famous gay comedian that ruined her life and stole her husband. He always made sure to forward them to Richie, and saved them in a folder. There might be a day when a late-night host needed some excellent material for Richie to react to, and he would gladly hand them over.
As Eddie placed the key on the kitchen counter, he realized that they had never actually had a conversation about where Eddie was going to leave. He just knew where he wasn't going to live.
The door closed, and Eddie turned to Richie. "What part of LA are you in? I have to find a decent hotel that isn't full of bugs and like dead bodies. Do you think that I can find health inspection records online? I'll have to buy wifi on the plane so I can read through all the reviews. Why are you looking at me like that?"
Richie scrunched his face as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hand.
"You're staying with me, asshole."
Eddie opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it. The thought of moving in together hadn't even crossed his mind; it seemed so obvious. There was nowhere else he wanted to be anyway.
Richie grabbed Eddie's hand. The motion was small and natural, but he still wasn't used to the feeling and felt as if electricity was coursing through his body. "Why waste your money on a hotel room when you'd be in my bed each night anyway?"
"Beep beep! This isn't the fucking time or place, Rich." Eddie smacked Richie's arm before pointing at the door to remind him that his wife was probably just on the other side of the door listening to them. It wasn't that Richie was wrong, but this conversation could wait until they at least were in the car. Or maybe even until they were in the air.
"Oh, they'll be plenty of fucking times and places."
Eddie rolled his eyes and lightly squeezed Richie's hand. He wanted to be annoyed with Richie, but he couldn't wait to start the next chapter of his life with this idiot.
Richie had attempted to cook for them that first night together. The gesture was sweet, but the meal was inedible. Eddie suspected this might be the outcome, and he had ordered a pizza halfway through the cooking ordeal.
It was a perfect night, Eddie thought as he went to bed with his head against Richie's chest.
Eddie realized that living with Richie was different than it had ever been with Myra. He had just allowed her to make most of the choices about the house because he never actually cared. All of those years, he had been on autopilot just going through the motions without realizing it.
Now, he had opinions about everything and someone that actually cared enough to listen to them.
He hated the rug and made sure that Richie knew it. It was horrified to find out that it had been with him since his days in college. Eddie gagged, thinking of the horrors that it had seen over the years. There wasn't enough cleaner in the world for him to allow his bare feet to touch it.
Within two days of Eddie complaining, Richie surprised him with a visit to the store to pick out a new one.
"You can't just spring this sort of decision on me! I don't even have the measurements of the living room."
"They come in different sizes?"
Eddie groaned. "This is why nothing in your apartment matches."
It took multiple trips to the stores, but Eddie eventually picked out the rug that he thought would look perfect. It was a blue rug that he thought might attempt to make the living room look like an actual adult lived there.
It seemed that anything that Eddie complained about was immediately removed or changed. The ugly poster in the bedroom vanished after he commented that it looked like something a teenager would have above there bed.
"Why don't any of your lids actually fit these pots or pans?" Eddie asked as he attempted to cook dinner one night for the both of them.
Richie shrugged. "I got them all at thrift stores over the years."
"That's disgusting." Eddie picked up his phone to order them dinner instead.
Two days later, a brand new set of pots and pans showed up at the apartment. Eddie appreciated them and started to make them dinners most nights. Richie would attempt to clean the dishes, but most times, Eddie would end up washing them a second time when he wasn't looking.
While re-cleaning a pan that Richie left burnt bits on, Eddie wondered r just how much money his boyfriend had spent on him since moving in. He pushed the thought of his mind as he crawled into bed. It didn't matter as long as he spent the night in Richie's arms.
The next night, Eddie came barreling into the living room, pulling on one of Richie's sweatshirts.
"Why the fuck is it always so cold in here? Do you even know how much you spend on your electric every month? Do you even think about your carbon footprint?"
"If you're so cold, why didn't you say something? Come here, Eds."
Richie reached out and pulled Eddie close to him.
"Get - off - me," Eddie said as he attempted to wrestle out of Richie's grasp.
"I'll keep you warm, though, baby," Richie said, tightening his hug. "Or just turn up the AC. You can turn the heat up real high, so we don't need anything clothing."
Richie winked at Eddie before leaning down to kiss him.
"It's not about the cold," Eddie said before Richie's lips could reach his own. He looked down at the ground. "I feel like you're changing your entire life so I can fit in it."
Rich exhaled loudly while he looked at the ceiling. He shook his head lightly before looking back down at Eddie. "I just want you to be happy. Like, I've never really done this before."
Richie motioned at the both of them for emphasis. He stand up might have included references of girlfriends, but he confessed to Eddie that it was all fabrication. There had never been a person that lasted more than a few dates.
"I've never really done this either," Eddie admitted. He could barely qualify his marriage as a relationship. In the past, he thought that it was a relationship, but being with Richie for just the last few months made him realize that it wasn't even close. After years with Myra, he really didn't know anything about her. They didn't listen to each other when they spoke. Now, Richie seemed to hang on every word that he spoke.
The two stood there in silence.
"I don't want to give you a reason to leave, so I might be going a little overboard," Richie said quietly.
"You're fucking stupid if you think I'm going to leave. It's just you don't need to go all sugar daddy."
"But, I would be such a good sugar daddy," Richie whined. He leaned down and lightly kissed Eddie. "So, no more gifts?"
"I never said that. Just maybe less gifts," Eddie laughed.
For the first time in his life, Eddie truly felt at home in Richie's arms. This was the place he had always meant to be, and he was never going to leave.