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Sunday afternoons.
They’re warm, cozy, and a hint of comfort, and they’re as soft as a childhood blanket. That’s what Richie thought, at least, as he straightened the framed photos on his desk for the fifth time, his eyes crinkled a bit from the sunlight reflecting through his blinds. It was only the first week of January, and the air was crisp and cold, but today as three o’clock approached the sun shone, highlighting the freckles on his nose that lingered from the summer before.
This Sunday afternoon was going to be one of the best, he had decided. Eddie was going to come over. This, of course, was nothing new, after a little less than a decade of sitting together amongst the mess of a room that Richie Tozier had created, but this time was different. This time, his friend wasn’t going to hang out. His boyfriend was going to spend time with him. On a date.
They had been dating since Wednesday, November 27, after kissing sloppily in his car at the park tasting like tequila and strawberry cake, but they had not yet been on a date. Eddie had told him, laying drunk on this very bed on New Year’s Eve, that he was still afraid. Richie understood, and for him, he would wait forever and more.
But yesterday, at approximately 7:43 PM, Eddie had called Richie and told him he was ready to come over. Richie was confused, as Eddie had been there days before, but then he corrected himself. He was ready to come over for a date .
So now, Richie had spent the last hour cleaning every crook of the room Eddie had seen so many times before, not settling for anything less than perfection. Eddie wasn’t a fan of messes, so Richie could not allow him to settle for less.
As soon as he decided each photo was as straight as it could be, he stood back and admired his work, pushing strands of hair out of his eyes.
Eddie was supposed to arrive in fifteen minutes. A drop of sweat dripped against Richie’s forehead as he ran his fingers through his hair in front of the mirror one last time, assuring that it looked nicer than usual. He was wearing a gray sweater that Bev had given him for Christmas, the sleeves hanging a little past his wrists. He smiled lightly before turning around and heading down the stairs.
He stepped into the front yard, the chill of the slight breeze contrasting the kiss of warmth from the sun, and he strolled to the grass. There were a patch of daisies there, seeming eager for Spring. He picked a few and held them near his pocket, sat on the porch and waited.
Eddie arrived shortly, his hands resting in the pockets of his jeans. His steps were a bit slow, as though he were nervous, and perhaps he was.
“Eds!” Richie smiled widely, running towards him and extending his daisy-filled palm. “I’ve got you something.”
“Is that so?” Eddie gave a slight smile, the butterflies in his stomach soaring and calming all at once, allowing the daisies into his palm, their fingers brushing.
“I thought they’d be better than roses from the store. Those are a little cliche, aren’t they? Hand picked daisies from my front yard are a little more-”
“A little more us,” Eddie finished, “I love them, Rich.”
He leaned up to peck his lips, blushing a little and then taking his boyfriend’s hand in his. Richie kissed Eddie’s palm, just because he could now, and led him inside.
Eddie tightened his grip on Richie’s hand as they walked up the stairs, swiping his thumb softly against the side. His cheeks were pink and his hands warm, and the nervousness he had about this date was going away. This made him happy. Richie made him happy. He was beginning to understand that he deserved that.
As soon as he stepped into the room, his eyes widened in awe. “Jesus Christ, is this your same room? Did you hire a maid or something?”
“You like it?” Richie smiled in pride, leaning against the wall. “I thought that now, I better start taking care of myself, and my room, before I let any cute boys in. A cute room for a cute boy.”
That would be the part where Eddie would roll his eyes. But he didn’t. His eyes sparkled instead.
“Wow, and every photo frame is straightened out too?” Eddie turned to him, “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“And I never thought I’d see this day either,” Richie said, tapping his foot a bit. Eddie smiled. He had just noticed the freckles on Richie’s nose. He kissed it.
“And just what do you have planned for this date of ours?” Eddie asked, studying the creases behind Richie’s glasses.
“I was thinking we could share blankets and watch movies, if you’d like. We could start up something else, if it gets boring,” Richie said.
“Sounds great,” Eddie said, and soon enough the television was playing, and they were sitting on the floor in front of the bed, wrapped in the quilt Richie had slept with for ages. Eddie was leaned over, his cheek resting against Richie’s chest, listening to his heart beat. It wasn’t fast, full of nerves like it had been earlier. It was slow, steady, calm. Calm . Peaceful.
Eddie focused on the sound instead of the movie. His eyes wandered around the room, studying every poster and every corner. He thought about the bed behind him, laying on it on New Year’s Eve a few nights before. Laying on it drunk off of his mind and straddling his boyfriend of a little over one month but his best friend of a little under ten years, ready to do something reckless to prove himself.
It hadn’t happened. Richie was too nice, would never let that happen when they’re drunk. Eddie was grateful for that. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how good it felt for a brief moment to be doing something that was out of his comfort zone, even if he’s not ready for that thing yet. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that, but he was ready for something.
“Rich?” he asked, his voice a bit raspy from the previous silence.
“Mhm?” Richie answered.
“How do you gain the confidence to do things?”
Richie scooted a little to look Eddie in his eyes. “What do you mean, Eds?”
“I don’t know, you’re just, always so down to do things. Like you’re not afraid. How do you do that?” Eddie asked.
“Well sure, some things scare me. But that’s part of the thrill, I guess? Do you mean like, doing dares or something? Going on the zipper at the fair?” Richie asked.
“Fuck no will you ever catch me riding any death trap at that fair,” Eddie laughed, “I know, I sound dumb. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately, and now that we’re finally together I’ve been feeling a lot more like me. The me I didn’t really know before this. The me that I’m supposed to find in college.”
“Well, Eddie my love, I am thrilled that you have chosen to find yourself with me,” Richie smiled warmly, kissing the top of Eddie’s hair.
Eddie smiled. “I want to do something out of my comfort zone. No, not something like ride that fucking zipper at the fair. Not something that will put me in the face of certain death. Just something...that I’ve never done before? I want to do something fun and new.”
“Like when we got drunk with our friends at the park?” Richie asked.
“Yeah, actually. Just like that,” Eddie said.
“Well, uh,” Richie started, “This might sound kind of weird, but two of the many things I’ve always wanted to do with you are getting high and doing makeup, and I’ve got some edibles and eyeliner in my second drawer.”
Eddie gulped. Well, that sounded terrifying. “You know what, Rich? I’m in.”
Richie blinked. “You sure? I mean, I would never want you to do something you don’t want to do, and especially not because of me, so you really can tell me no and we’ll put on a better movie to watch.”
Eddie stroked his thumb. “No, Rich. It’s okay. I want to, I promise.” He cupped Richie’s cheeks and looked into his eyes, “I promise.”
“Okay,” Richie kissed him quickly, “Fuck, yeah, okay. I’ll go get the edibles. The make-up won’t be as fun sober.”
Eddie laughed to himself, tucking his knees to his chest. He was a little nervous, yeah. But last time he decided to take shots he ended up in a relationship with his secret love, so getting high might have its perks too.
Richie came back with what looked to be a bag of gummy worms. Eddie quirked his head in confusion, and Richie giggled.
“These ARE the edibles, Eddie my love. They have them in gummy snacks, and you know me and gummy snacks. Gummy snacks that get you high? It’s a fucking gift from God.”
“I’ll take your word on that,” Eddie said, reaching out his palm.
“I’ll give you two worms, it should be enough for a beginner,” Richie said, two multi-colored sour worms in his hand. “You’re like, positively sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely positively,” Eddie winked at him, and put the candy in his mouth. They didn’t taste horrible, far better tasting than shots of Tequila, but there was a strange flavor in them that he assumed to be weed.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my little Eddie Spaghetti all grown up! Out here getting drunk in public and on New Year’s Eve and now getting high? It’s a miracle!” Richie gushed as he took his own.
“Fuck you,” Eddie laughed, “So when does it start working?”
“This bag usually takes me thirty minutes,” Richie said, “Cuddle me until then?”
Eddie pulled the quilt back over them, cuddling into Richie’s chest as he had been before. The movie continued.
As the time passed, Eddie’s excitement to try it wavered with slight anxiety. What if something went wrong? What if he didn’t like it? What if it ended up being scary and he gets an anxiety attack, or even worse, what if he embarrassed himself in front of Richie and he doesn’t want to be with him anymore or-
“You okay, Eds?” Richie asked, tilting up Eddie’s chin to look at him. The anxiety faded away with the warmth in his boyfriend’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Eddie smiled, “I’m okay.”
They went back to the movie, and Eddie started to feel heavy. Not inside, but like, physically. He started raising his arm up and down, just because it felt so heavy and full to lift and that was very strange but in a sort of way made him feel good about himself because he didn’t feel light anymore.
The colors of the television got a little brighter, and he felt the weight in his bottom lip, raising his hands to touch his face and then looking at his fingertips.
“Rich,” he said, “Rich.” He turned his head to look at him, resting his fingers on his cheek. “I-I think it’s working.”
Richie’s eyes were a little red tinted, and he thought it must have worked for him too. Because when he looked at Richie, Richie’s face fell into a broken smile and he laughed .
“Hey, what’s so funny?” Eddie said, but he’s laughing too, and he’s brushing his fingers through Richie’s hair.
“You think it’s working?” Richie laughed, “Baby, your eyes are beet red!”
“God, really?” Eddie laughed, and he doesn’t know why he’s laughing exactly, but he is and now he’s got his fingers over his eyes.
“No, no, let me see,” Richie said, gently grabbing Eddie’s hands and pulling them away. “I want to see.”
“Why? So you could laugh at me some more? Fuck off,” Eddie teased.
“You’ve got pretty eyes, Eds. So pretty,” he ran his thumb across Eddie’s temple, a dazed look in his eye, and Eddie can’t tell how much of that is from the weed.
“Shut up, Rich,” Eddie smiled, “You’re high.”
“No,” Richie said, “I mean, yes, I’m fucking stoned, but that doesn’t change how pretty your eyes are. Prettiest in the world. So big and brown, I’d drown in them if I could.”
Eddie blushed, looking at him in awe. He never expected that Richie was capable of these kind of words. Maybe it was the weed talking.
“Rich,” he said, and Richie laid them down, facing each other cuddled in the quilt.
“I mean it,” Richie said, and he wasn’t laughing anymore. He was staring at Eddie, staring deeper than he ever had maybe, and his lip was quivering. “I’ve loved you so long, Eds. So, so long. I just can’t believe you’re mine.”
Eddie blinked, resting his fingers under Richie’s chin. “Me too, Rich.”
“It’s real, oh God it’s real,” Richie said, as if he’d just figured it out. “It’s real, you really wanna be with me?”
“Of course,” Eddie said, “I want nothing more than I want you Richie.”
Richie was staring back at him, and a tear dripped down his face. Eddie wiped it away, kissing the skin where it had been. They stare at each other for a while, and Richie pulled Eddie into his chest and kissed his forehead. He held him for a minute, and then Eddie spoke again. “Holy fucking shit, Richie.”
“What is it?” Richie asked.
“I’m so fucking high.”
Just like that they’re laughing again, laughing harder than they ever have before, and Eddie is holding his own ribs with one hand and Richie’s hand with the other.
“Wow,” Eddie said between giggles, “My hands feel all fuzzy.”
Richie kissed his palm and then sat them up. “I think it’s time to give you a makeover, Eddie baby.”
“A makeover? You just called me pretty and started crying and now I need a makeover?” Eddie laughed.
“A pretty boy with eyeliner on? My heart wouldn’t be able to stand it,” Richie said, falling back in the drawer and pulling out an eyeliner pen.
“How the fuck you gonna put that on me, huh? We can’t feel our hands!” Eddie rolled onto his back.
“Bev puts it on me at our sleepovers after we’ve gotten high off our minds all the time!” Richie said, “If she can do it, why can’t I?”
“Because she’s Beverly Marsh,” Eddie said. “That girl’s got superpowers, or something like them. A little weed can’t stop her.”
“Bold of you to assume the same can’t be said about me,” Richie smirked, “I’ve got superpowers too. You can’t see them? Oh, that’s right. We haven’t taken our pants off yet. Your mom could vouch for me, that’s for sure.”
“Fuck you,” Eddie laughed, “Just put the damn thing on me, then we’ll talk.”
“Alright, honey bunny. Lay down and close your eyes,” Richie instructed.
“Never call me that again,” Eddie said, but did as he was told, “And you better actually put eyeliner on me and not draw a dick on my forehead with it, you fucking asshole.”
“Eds, you have broken my heart,” Richie said, “Making such vile accusations! What do you think of me, huh?”
“I think you’re an asshole that likes to draw dicks on people’s foreheads,” Eddie smiled.
“To Stan or Bill, maybe. But you’re much too pretty,” Richie said.
He leans over and Eddie feels the cold felt tip against the side of his eye, slowly sliding across. But the movement felt quite shaky, rather than a glide.
Eddie opened his other eye, “I don’t think it’s supposed to be that shaky.”
“Always the critic, I see,” Richie said, and Eddie could see his face focused in immense concentration. He smiled a little and closed his opened eye.
“And the handy work is done!” Richie said, leaning back off of him and dropping the pen to the side. “Gorgeous. Props to the cosmetologist.”
Eddie opened his eyes and shot up, the world swirling before it caught into focus again, and looked into the mirror. He was almost too distracted from seeing his eyes so red to focus on the very crooked and wavy black lines on his eyelids. Almost.
“Wow,” Eddie said, and he was laughing again.
“It’s great, okay? I’m fucking high! I can’t keep my hand still very well sober, much less when my nerves are exploding! I don’t know how the fuck Bev could do this high, I really don’t,” Richie sighed.
“Superpowers,” Eddie said, “Or maybe because your stupid cute hands are too big and lanky and useless to hold an eyeliner pen.”
“I don’t believe that’s true, Eds,” Richie smirked, “You’ll see soon enough.”
“Shut up, you fucking horndog,” Eddie laughed. “I’ll see for myself on Valentine’s Day.”
“Valentine’s Day, huh?” Richie said, standing up and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s stomach, both of them facing the mirror.
“Yes,” Eddie said, deciding he liked the way they looked like this. “I want it to be Valentine’s Day.”
Then, the phone started buzzing. Eddie froze, moving to his phone and seeing his mom’s contact.
“Fuck,” he said, “Fucking hell, really?”
“Are you gonna answer?” Richie asked.
“I don’t know,” Eddie sighed.
“Maybe you should, Eddie my love,” Richie squeezed his shoulder, “It’ll be less to deal with when you get home.”
And that was just the thing. Eddie wasn’t home, Eddie doesn’t live at home really anymore. He’s on winter break away from his dorm. She can’t control him anymore.
So then, he gets an idea. A stupid one, that’s for sure. One that he definitely wouldn’t have gotten sober. But it’s a good one, he decided.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Eddie? Goodness gracious, where have you been? I got home from the grocery store and you’re nowhere in sight. You can’t do this to me, Eddie! Where are you? Tell me so I can come get you.”
Eddie smirked. “You wanna know where I am, Ma?”
“Yes, Eddie, get on with it!”
“I’m actually putting eyeliner on, and getting high as fuck with my boyfriend .”
Richie winced, nervousness in his eyes. Eddie’s heart was pounding, and he can’t believe the words left his mouth. But then, they hear a string of incomprehensible yelling, and Eddie had to drop his phone to the floor because they’re laughing so hard. They fall with it.
“Eddie, do you think this is funny?” they hear her say, “Are you laughing ? This is no laughing matter! Come home this instance!”
“Actually, you know what, Ma?” he said, looking up at Richie for a little confidence, “I’m eighteen now, I’m in college too. If I want to make out with a boy and eat little candies that make my hands feel numb and make no part of this conversation scary, then I will. Goodbye.”
He hung up the phone, pressing the power button and turning it off. He looked back up at Richie, leaned against the wall and started laughing.
“Holy fucking shit Eddie, that was amazing!” Richie said, “Fuck, I could just imagine the look on her face!”
“I did that, oh my God I did that,” Eddie said, more to himself, and he’s laughing but then he’s thinking because oh my God he really did do that . He’s thinking about how he really did stand up to his mom and holy fuck he outed himself and she’s probably going to drug test him now and maybe she’ll take him out of college and won’t let him see his friends anymore, won’t let him see Richie anymore and he doesn’t know if he could handle that and maybe he just shouldn’t have picked up that call and-
“Eddie?” Richie said, his voice wavering. “Are you okay?”
Eddie wasn’t laughing anymore. His chest was rising and falling, his breaths hitched, his eyes watering. “I did that.”
“Hey,” Richie crawled over to him, taking his hands in his own. “Deep breaths, okay Eds? Deep breaths. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Eddie closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, Richie’s worried eyes looking back at his. He focused on the freckles on his nose that he had noticed earlier. Freckles still lingering from the summer before.
His breaths started to steady, closing his fingers back around Richie’s hands, still getting lost in his features. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Richie said, kissing his cheek. “I’ve got an idea.”
Richie moved back to that lucky second drawer, and pulled out a small bottle of bubbles.
“Bubbles?” Eddie asked.
“I, uh, I get anxiety sometimes, okay, maybe a lot of times, so I see the counselor back at school. She said blowing these bubbles is a good stress reliever. I thought you might like to try.”
Eddie nodded, taking the bottle in his hand. After the things he had tried doing today, he had no room to judge an activity. So he blew one. He thought that bubbles look a hell of a lot cooler when he’s high. So he blew another, and another.
A few bubbles later, he was feeling a little more collected, and then Richie leaned over to pop one.
“Really?” Eddie allowed himself to smile.
“What? You can’t expect me to sit here and look at bubbles and not pop them. You ask too much of me, Eds.”
“You’re such a child,” Eddie shook his head, blowing another.
“You love me,” Richie said, popping it.
“I do,” Eddie said, blowing another.
And they were blowing more and more, until the bottle is getting low and they’re laughing so hard that he dropped the stick to the floor. And then he moved over to Richie and kissed him, more passionately than their other kisses today. Richie stumbled back a little and kissed him back, holding onto his hips. Eddie laid on top of him and kissed him some more, running his hands through his boyfriend’s hair.
They kissed more, and then Richie sucked Eddie’s bottom lip, and he made a sound. He was embarrassed at first, because he had never made a sound like that in front of Richie, but then he said fuck it and makes the bold move to kiss Richie’s neck. He gets a sound from him back.
They’re making out for a while, and it’s more heated than things have ever been for Eddie, and his jeans are getting tighter by the minute.
“Fuck, Richie,” he said, pressing his forehead to his, their lips only slightly apart, staring into his eyes. “You know what? I wanna fuck on Valentine’s Day.”
Richie’s eyes widened, “Really? Like, actually? Like, all the way?”
“Why the fuck not?” Eddie said, kissing him again. “But that’s Valentine’s Day. What’s gonna happen today?”
“What are you trying to say, Eds?” Richie asked.
“I wanna fuck that day, but what about today? We can just blow each other or something, can’t we?”
Richie smiled, but placed his thumb against Eddie’s lips and sat him up. “Eddie, baby. You know I want that. Want it so bad.”
“Then what’s stopping us?” Eddie asked.
“Let’s take one look in the mirror. Or at each other, for that matter. We’re high as fuck, Eds.”
Eddie sighed, looking away for a second. “Yeah. I guess we are.”
“We have to do all of our firsts sober, remember? So there’s no way we can forget. So we can feel it, fully and entirely. As fun as high blowjobs would be, we’ve got to try that after we’ve done it sober first. Right?” Richie smiled at him, running his hand through Eddie’s hair.
“Right,” Eddie said, “Who the fuck would’ve known you’d be the responsible one?”
“And you’re out here calling me a horndog,” Richie laughed.
“Fuck off,” Eddie said, “No high blowjobs yet, but how about high cuddling?”
“I’m down for that,” Richie said, and he stood up and lifted his boyfriend onto the bed, tucking them in.
Richie spooned him close to him, resting his chin on top of his head. Eddie was more than happy; he was ecstatic. He was so much better than he was before. So much more like himself. The himself he was figuring out still. Turned out he liked edibles, and blowing bubbles, and making out with Richie Tozier, and maybe he’d let Bev put real eyeliner on him one of these days. Because he was him, he was alive, he was young and he was bold.
“I love you, Rich,” he decided to say. He had said it so many times before; since they were very young. But this time was different.
Richie smiled, squeezing Eddie even closer to him, if that was possible. “I love you too, Eds.”
They fell asleep like that, the white noise of the television playing in the background. They had never felt more safe, or more warm. Never had spent a better Sunday afternoon.
Eddie woke up two hours later, and the sun was no longer creeping through the blinds. It is rather the moonlight, and he figured that it was time to go home.
But Richie looked so at peace, and his body felt so warm against his, and he would give anything to spend the night here with him. But he wasn’t high anymore, and he had a mother situation to deal with.
“Rich,” he leaned down, kissing his forehead.
Richie slowly awakened, stretching his arms and then wrapping them around Eddie’s shoulders.”You have to go, don’t you?”
“I’ll be back,” Eddie said, “Fuck, I’ll be back as soon as you want me.”
“You know that would be forever and more, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said sleepily, his eyes still adjusting to being awake.
“Sap,” Eddie teased, “Walk me down?”
Richie nodded, stepping out of the quilt and taking Eddie by the hand as they walked down.
“Wait,” Richie said, “Do you want me to wipe that eyeliner off?”
“Ah, fuck it,” Eddie smiled, “I’ve got to show the world what an amazing artist my boyfriend is.”
“I’m glad you finally see the talent,” Richie said, and Eddie turned to kiss him again. His lips were cold now, from the crisp air of a January evening, but it’s the warmest Eddie had ever felt.
“Would you like to go ice skating this Saturday?” Eddie asked.
“Fuck yeah, I’d like to go and hand your ass to you, Eds. I’m an ice skating pro,” Richie answered. He had never been ice skating.
“I don’t know if that’s possible with your lanky ass legs.”
“You love them.”
“I do.”