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Richie nervously checked his watch. 5:55. Five more minutes until Eddie was going to be picking him up for… their date? He hadn’t really asked him to specify because he was a little worried that this trip to the diner for dinner didn’t mean as much to him as it did to Richie. Richie had met the barista not a week prior. It was after he had walked into his favorite coffee shop to find some shitty business asshole yelling at him. Once Richie got the man to leave, he had snagged the boy’s number, and the only preparation he had for what to expect from their hangout was this:
Eddie: Hey, I wanted to ask if you’d like to have dinner with me at Sally’s Diner? Monday sound good?
Richie: sounds great!
And that was all he had heard from Eddie since yesterday. Fuck. The slow ticks as the second hand made its way around the little glass surface on his wrist barely seemed to make any difference as to the actual time, and Richie was aware of every breath he took, every titchy movement of his buzzing fingers. After another thirty seconds, Richie moved to look in the mirror, eyeing his outfit. It was nice enough that it could pass for date type clothing, but casual enough that he could play it off as just wanting to look decent. On his feet, he wore black high top chucks, and above that, black ripped skinny jeans that he knew fit him well. French tucked into the jeans was a leafy black Hawaiian shirt dotted with yellow pineapples, and of course, his hair was pulled back. Just like the day that he had first met Eddie. Not that he had seen him since.
He saw Stan approach him from behind in the mirror, frowning. “Richie, you look fine. Relax.”
Richie spun around to face him, anxiously scratching at his itchy fingertips, “That’s what scares me. What if I look a little too fine? I’m not exactly known to dress up just to go hang out.” He picked a little at the collar of his shirt, straightening it for the millionth time.
Stan sighed, stepping forward to pull Richie’s hands down and stare him dead in the eye. “Richard. We have discussed this,” a hand reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “He asked you on a date, this is a date.” He gave him a little push towards the door, “You’re going to be okay. Just go out there and do what you do best: run your mouth.”
“That’s what I don’t-”
He was cut off by a knock on the door. Shit shit shit. Richie whipped it open, hoping to a God he didn’t believe in that he didn’t seem too flustered. “Hey,” Eddie gave him a small smile, “sorry I’m late.”
Richie cast his eyes down towards his wrist. 6:01. He let out an obnoxious snort, “All good Eds.” Richie shamelessly ran his gaze up and down Eddie’s frame, taking in the baggy pink sweater that was slipping off of his shoulder, and noticing how it was tucked into light blue overalls, all topped off by a pair of pristine white vans. He also had on the cutest little puffball hat that Richie had ever seen.
Eddie just gave an adorable little huff, “Don’t call me Eds.”
Opening the door wider, Richie ushered him inside. “Welcome to la casa de Tozier y Uris. Come in, I just have to grab my coat and then we will be on our way!”
Eddie hiked through the door, rubbing a bit of the slush off his feet as he passed the front door’s rug. “So this is where Trashmouth Tozier lives, huh. Not really what I expected.”
Richie winked, reaching into the closet to pull out his well-loved trademark leather jacket. “Oh, I’m full of surprises Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie spluttered indignantly at the nickname.
“Fuck off,” Eddie and Stan said in unison, grinning as they high-fived around Richie’s lanky frame.
“Ahhhhhhh!” Richie wailed dramatically, “They’ve multiplied!” He curled three fingers into the Greek symbol for warding off evil thrust it out from his heart, waving it around at a giggling Eddie and a decidedly amused Stan. “Begone foul demons!”
“You Percy Jackson nerd,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Hey Stan, how’s it going?”
“Another day in paradise,” Stan responded drily.
Richie looked back and forth between the two with a quizzical expression on his face, “What- How do you guys know each other?” He puts on his stern Jewish Mother voice, “I want details.”
“We met at an alien cult’s convention,” Stan deadpanned.
Richie turned to Eddie, “We were in the same English class last semester,” Eddie confided, ignoring the flat look Stan was giving him.
Grimacing, Richie cleared his throat, “Well, with that horrifying revelation, I think it’s time we head out.” He tipped an imaginary hat and pulled on his coat, “Cheerio!” Richie linked arms with Eddie, and he couldn’t help but observe the light blush that dusted the boy’s cheeks as he dragged him closer in the hallway, slotting him perfectly against his side. He slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, unsure if the touch seemed casual enough.
“Have a good date you two,” Stan called from their dorm, “Be safe!”
Richie flipped him the finger as they continued down the hall in a comfortable silence; Neither felt the urge to break the calm quiet. Finally, Richie took a breath. “So Eduardo,” Eddie made a noise of protest but Richie barreled on, determined not to chicken out. “Is- is this a date?”
Eddie looked up at him from underneath gorgeous long lashes, “I sure hope so. I mean, we’re all dressed up, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, yeah we are,” Richie nodded, more to himself than anything, and leaned over to place a kiss in Eddie’s hair. He could see the blush on his neck now, and his face must have been quite red. “Okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” Eddie confirmed, brown doe eyes glittering up at him. They made their way to Eddie’s beat-up Toyota and hopped inside; Richie noticed how it smelled like Eddie and inhaled deeply. Chattering and bickering back and forth as they made their way to the diner, the time passed quickly. As Eddie helped him out of the car, Richie's eyes lit up. Eddie immediately turned suspicious, no doubt catching onto Richie’s numerous antics. “What is it?”
“Oh nothing... Edward Spagedward,” Richie shot him a shit-eating grin that was apparently so endearing Eddie couldn’t manage much more than a sigh in response.
“How many more of those have you come up with?”
“Not that many!” Richie cried, trying his best to sound innocent. He’d always been a shit liar.
“Are you suuure?”
Richie pursed his lips, trying his utmost not to betray the Cheshire grin that was close to spreading across his face. “Totally sure Edgar Allan Poe.” He nudged Eddie with his shoulder and opened the door for him, “After you m’lady.”
They walked into the quaint little diner that seemed stuck sometime in the 80s. A waitress waved them over, “Please seat yourself.” She pointed to the open booths.
Eddie shot her a quick smile, taking Richie’s hand and pulling him towards a spot in the corner, holding on to his date’s hand for a bit longer than was strictly necessary. “I, uh,” Eddie blushed for the billionth time that night, and certainly not the last, “I just wanted to say thank you, y’know, ‘cause I never did at the coffee shop.”
Richie was puzzled, “Of course Eds, anyone would have done the same for a cutie like you!”
Shaking his head, Eddie explained, “Yeah, but no one did. Just you. So I wanted to thank you.” His fingers drummed on the table and Richie just shrugged.
They got to swapping tales, and after a couple of minutes a different waitress appeared, “Hi, I’m Cathy, what can I get you for drinks?”
They ended up ordering milkshakes, Eddie a strawberry one, and Richie a chocolate malt. It didn’t matter anyhow because they switched halfway through, teasing each other about their tastes, but secretly enjoying the cheesy flirtiness of it.
As soon as they were ready to leave, Eddie paid the bill- ”I asked you out Chee, I should be the one to pay.” As soon as Richie heard the nickname he shut his trap. Damn, that boy was sweet, and he knew just how to keep the trashmouth quiet.
When they got back to his complex, Eddie walked him to his door, snug against his side, and held there by the arm around his waist. Richie was an impulsive person, so it didn’t come as a great shock when he suggested, jokingly, “No kiss goodbye?”
But Eddie was a bit of a romantic, and he wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck, standing on tiptoe to press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. When he stepped back, he wore a dreamy little smile, “See you again?”
“Yeah,” Richie nodded his head enthusiastically, feeling a bit like a love-struck puppy. “Definitely.” As the shorter boy turned to leave Richie added, “As long as I get to buy next time!” Eddie scoffed but didn’t comment, not bothering to turn around as Richie entered the blessed warmth of his room.
“How’d it go?” Stan was sitting on the couch watching Seinfeld reruns.
Richie hummed, putting on the kettle for Stan’s nightly cup of tea. He thought about the night: all the laughter and shared stories, and how Eddie had seemed to enjoy himself just as much as Richie. He hadn’t minded Richie’s habit of constantly running his mouth, and he had a witty response for every quip thrown at him, giving as good as he got. God, Richie was practically in love already.
He gave a small smile, back turned to his roommate. This was just for himself. “I think it went amazing.”