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Richie was living a nightmare.
Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, considering they had fought It for the second time less than a year ago, but still.
On paper, everything in his life was going exponentially better than it had before his return to Derry. He had come out as gay publicly, fired his ghostwriters, and was freshly back from his comeback tour. He had finally told Eddie he loved him and somehow Eddie loved him back which was wild. And now he and Eddie were moving in together officially.
Which was where the nightmare starts.
They had decided together that it was the smart choice for the two of them to buy a house together, seeing as how they were both all-in on their relationship and Richie’s tiny crappy apartment wasn’t suitable for two grown men in their forties to live in.
The thing was though, Eddie was a real estate agent’s nightmare. Even beyond the must-have list, he hounded the realtor about every minute detail of the houses they were shown, from improper ventilation in the bathrooms that could lead to mold growth all the way down to if the lawn was unevenly mown. He had made more than one showing real estate agent cry and they had been fired as clients from another realtor.
All of this was endlessly amusing to Richie, of course — he loved everything that little gremlin man did — but it was getting close to the end of his lease on his apartment and they were running out of time to find a place. Not to mention the housing market in the Los Angeles area was the ninth circle of hell.
Their weekends had been dedicated to the house hunt, and this one was no different. Their new realtor, Ross, had scheduled them for a whopping eight showings over the course of two days, determined to find something that would appease Eddie. So far, nothing had.
“This house is listed for $599,000 and it was just placed on the market. It was built in 2012, so it’s very new, very modern with four bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths. I think you guys will really like this one,” Ross was saying as they stood in front of a large house. He had a smile on his face, but it looked strained.
Eddie was frowning. This wouldn’t be notable as it’s his default expression, except Richie had started to catalogue this particular frown as meaning ‘this house is unsatisfactory’ and knew this wasn’t the one.
“The neighbor’s houses are too close. I feel like they’re breathing down each other’s necks,” Eddie said, brows furrowing somehow closer together.
“Houses don’t breathe,” Richie replied. “They don’t have lungs and it’s very insensitive of you to bring it up, Eds.” He tsk ed. Eddie looked unimpressed.
“Would you like for me to look for listings in a more rural area?” Ross offered with the patience of a saint.
Eddie hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I want something rural, maybe just more private. This is too close together, it’s claustrophobic.”
“Not a problem. This was the last showing I had us booked for this weekend, so let me spend this week finding more places and we can meetup again next week?”
They said their goodbyes, Ross looking slightly relieved to be going his separate way, and Richie folded himself back into the passenger seat of Eddie’s fuck you massive SUV.
They spent the drive back to Richie’s shithole apartment discussing the aspects of the listings that they did see — “I really liked the crown moulding on the third house, it made it look very clean-cut” “You know what else is cut? My d-” “I swear to God I will divorce you if you finish that word” “We’re not even married yet!” “I will marry you just to divorce you” — and adding even more things to Eddie’s ridiculous must-have list.
So far, they were at:
- At least 4 bedrooms — so that the Losers can all stay over!!
- 3 Bathrooms — I refuse to share a bathroom with the guests.
- A walk-in closet in the master bedroom — so that i can organize my polo shirts by color
- A massive bathtub — so that we can both fit ;)
- Garden
- Back deck for entertaining
- Home office
- Game Room — For Richie.
- Skylight
- Pool
- Hot tub — to fuck in :D
- Crown moulding
They had written it down on a piece of paper so that they wouldn’t forget anything and then promptly covered it in their own commentary.
It was going to be next to impossible to find a move-in ready house with everything on the list, but Eddie insisted it was all necessary. As far as Richie was concerned, whatever Eddie wanted, Eddie got.
It seemed that everything in their lives was currently revolving around this dream house — most of their conversations were about it, no matter where they were or what they were doing. In fact, that night they were both still panting and sweating after mindblowing sex when Eddie rolled over and looked very seriously at Richie and said: “We should get a bouncy castle. For the new house.”
Richie, whose mind was still a melted puddle of goo post-orgasm, rolled his head over to look directly at his boyfriend and his thick, drawn-together, completely serious eyebrows and said, “Hwuh?” very intelligently.
Eddie reached out and gripped Richie’s upper arm in a steel grip and repeated, “We should get a bouncy castle. One of those superhero-themed ones.” His eyes were boring into Richie’s, a slightly crazed look in them. “We can invite the others over for the housewarming party and bam!” —he clapped directly in Richie’s face— “we’ll have that in the backyard as a surprise.”
Richie wanted nothing more than to give Eddie the perfect house of his dreams, including whatever fun whims crossed his mind during the search. There was just one glaring problem and that was that — “Eds, I’m old as shit and my knees are fucked. I wouldn’t survive a bouncy castle without getting hospitalized.” He let out a chuckle, rolling closer and tossing an arm across Eddie’s waist.
Eddie mumbled something — it sounded like ‘well you don’t have to use it’ — before wrapping his arms around Richie and pulling him into his chest, Richie laying his head over Eddie’s heart and listening to it beat. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, Eddie petting Richie’s hair gently as they just enjoyed each other’s presence.
“Eds?”
Eddie just hummed in reply, his fingers scratching lightly at Richie’s scalp. Richie pushed his head into his hand, chasing the feeling on instinct, like an enormous cat.
“Why do you want the house to have all that bullshit, anyway? Not that I don’t want you to have everything you want,” Richie is quick to add, “it just seems like-” He cut himself off.
“Seems like what?” Eddie’s hand stopped moving in his hair.
“I don’t know. It’s fucking dumb, never mind,” Richie mumbled, nuzzling his face into Eddie’s chest.
Eddie huffed in annoyance. “Don’t ‘never mind’ me. Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart.”
Richie was silent for another minute before replying quietly. “It seems like you’re trying to make it impossible for Ross to find a house with everything on your list on purpose. Like maybe you don't want to buy a house with me. Which is fine! I wouldn’t want to buy a house with me either, I just want you to tell me if that’s the case, if we’re moving too fast for you-”
“Richie.”
Richie stopped talking.
“Baby, I’m absolutely not having second thoughts, so jot that down in your brain. I’m just-” he cut himself off, huffing a little as if he couldn’t quite think of the right words. “I want this house to be perfect. This is going to be our house, the one we live in and own together and that means something to me. It’s special. So I just. I want to make sure that it’s exactly what we want and need because I don’t want us to be unhappy there.”
Richie’s heart clenched.
“Eds, I’d be happy to live in a dumpster if it meant I got to live with you.” Eddie crinkled his nose at that, looking so goddamn cute. “I know, you’d never live in a dumpster, you prissy little bitch.”
“I’m not a-!” Eddie started to protest before Richie cut him off by continuing.
“My point is! My point is that it’s going to be perfect because you’re there.”
Eddie stared at him for a minute, his eyes even bigger than normal somehow. He let out a tiny little oh , his eyes shining a little before he rolled over on top of Richie and attached himself to his lips.
“You. Old. Sap,” Eddie said between kisses, his hands on either side of Richie’s face, smushing his cheeks forward into a fishy-face. “You motherfucker. Where do you get off saying sappy shit like that? Asshole.”
Richie just grinned and submitted to Eddie’s assault on his mouth.
The next weekend, Richie strolled out of the apartment building towards their car, armed with a massive hydroflask filled with Eddie’s homemade cold brew and a steely determination to find a house that Eddie would love.
The first two were rejected at first sight — Eddie didn’t like the color of the first one, it was too yellow and the second one had windows that were too small-looking and made the whole house look off.
At the third house, Richie let Eddie wander off, inspecting every inch of every room and muttering to himself. Richie was fiddling with the light dimmer in the living room when Ross sidled up to him.
“How long have you two been together?” He asked. Ross was shorter than Richie, probably around Eddie’s height. He didn’t seem the type to want to make casual smalltalk, so this surprised Richie.
“Oh, between one and thirty-five years, depending on how you count it,” Richie replied, moving his attention away from the light dimmer to an odd stone statue of a lizard by the fireplace.
“How the- Okay, I’m not even going to question that.” Richie smiled at Ross’ reply. There was an awkward moment of silence where neither one spoke. During that time he heard Eddie shout ‘-closets!’ from deeper within the house.
“I fucking love that man,” Richie muttered to himself.
“You guys seem...very different. You’re so laid-back and he’s very…” Ross trailed off with a wave of his hand.
Richie shrugged. “Eds seems very high-strung- actually, wait yeah. He is very high-strung but that’s what’s fun. You can just say something like ‘vaccines are a way for the government to track you’ and it riles him up and he starts waving his arms around and his face gets red as he tells you all the ways you’re wrong and an idiot and going to bring about the end of days. It’s hot.”
The look on Ross’ face was absolutely priceless. Richie just smiled as he took a swig of cold brew from his hydroflask.
The problem was, now that Richie started talking about Eddie, he couldn’t physically stop himself. “Actually, this one time he yelled at me for forty-five straight minutes about how I was cutting the tomatoes wrong-”
A half hour later and Richie realized he actually really liked Ross. They had hit it off, exchanging stories about their loved ones — Richie told him some of the tamer stories about the Losers, Ross told him about his brother and sister — while Eddie continued his deep-dive into this house. Actually, this was the longest he had spent with any of the houses they had seen, so Richie had hopes that that was a good sign.
When Eddie walked back into the living room, Richie and Ross were both cackling hard at Ross’ story about a pumpkin and a Backstreet Boys poster. Richie straightened up, wiping a stray tear from his cheek as he looked over at the love of his life.
“Eds! My love! You’ve returned from the war!” Richie walked over to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. Eddie stiffened slightly under his touch. His face was a little pinched. Richie furrowed his brows. “So? Do you like this one?” Richie questioned, unsure.
“The house is fine,” Eddie replied curtly. He was glaring at the wall.
Ross straightened his shoulders, trying to look composed after their giggle fit. “Tell me your thoughts, Eds. Any problems, anything missing from the list?”
“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped at him. Ross flinched slightly.
Richie grimaced, hissing through his teeth a little. “Yeah, we don’t actually call him that. Well, I do, but no one else can.” He made a little motion across his throat like cut it out where Eddie couldn’t see it.
“And I said the house is fine,” Eddie said. He still sounded icy, but less like he was about to rip Ross’ throat out with his teeth.
Richie put his hands on both of Eddie’s shoulders and started to steer him towards the front door. “O-okay, we’re gonna start heading to the next house. We’ll see you there.” He had no idea what was up with Eddie, but he sure as fuck did not want him to murder their realtor in someone else’s house.
“I’m actually developing a migraine and would rather go home and sleep it off,” Eddie said, sounding pissed still, but allowing Richie to direct him.
Over his shoulder, Richie called, “We’ll be in touch, okay?” and mouthed a sorry to Ross who waved back confused, ushering Eddie out the door and down the front steps to the car.
Once they were in the car and on the road, Eddie holding the steering wheel in a white-knuckled death grip, Richie spoke again.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”
Eddie exhaled sharply through his nose in response.
“Eds? Baby, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
He was quiet for another moment before Eddie said lowly, “You were laughing with him. You never laugh like that with anyone else.” Anyone but me went unspoken in the air between them. Richie furrowed his brow. “I came in the room to tell you my thoughts and I saw you two laughing like that and I just-” He broke off.
Richie fought back a grin. “Eddie, are you jealous? Of Ross?”
He bristled. “No! Absolutely not, that is not what’s happening here! I’m just- I was-” he floundered for words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“That’s totally what it is! You’re jealous of Ross, our realtor!” Richie exclaimed gleefully.
“Shut the fuck up, you dickass!” They were pulling up to their apartment building, Eddie aggressively pulling into a parking space, cutting off some soccer mom in a minivan. He flipped her off without looking at her.
“Babe, I’m literally buying a house with you, there’s absolutely no reason to be jealous of Ross the Realtor!” Richie was laughing fully now as he sang, very quietly, “Ross the Realtor! Can we find it? Ross the Realtor! Yes we can!”
Eddie froze. “Did you just sing the theme song to ‘Bob the Builder’?”
“No,” Richie replied on instinct. Eddie turned very slowly to look at him. Richie blinked. Suddenly, Eddie’s shoulders were dropping and he was cackling loudly.
“You’re so fucking stupid, oh my god,” he said as best he could. Richie smiled and leaned across the center console, cupping Eddie’s jaw and kissing him, tasting his laughter. Eddie tried to calm himself down enough to kiss him back properly, but Richie was fine with mostly getting his teeth.
“I love you, so much. There’s literally no reason you should be jealous of Ross,” Richie murmured against Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie hummed. “I love you, too. And I think that house was the one.” And he leaned back in to kiss Richie, who pulled back abruptly.
“Hello? Did you just say that house was the one?” Richie asked, very loudly for the close quarters of the car. A slow smile spread across Eddie’s face as he nodded. Richie beamed right back at him and pulled him into the tightest hug he could manage over the console. “We’re gonna buy a house,” he whispered into Eddie’s ear.
“Fuck yeah, we are.”
A few weeks later, they closed on the house. Somehow, it managed to fit everything on Eddie’s list, despite him seemingly adding a new requirement every day.
They weren’t unpacked in the slightest, cardboard boxes seeming to fill most of the floor space in the main rooms, but Eddie had insisted on making sure their bed was set up and made, even though Richie had suggested they just set up sleeping bags on the floor like when they were kids.
“We’re not spending our first night in our home sleeping on the fucking floor, Rich,” Eddie snapped, dropping the box he had been holding onto a stack in the kitchen. “You’re fucking old, you’d break your back.”
“Why are you always calling me old?! You’re four months older than me! If anything, you’re the old one in this relationship,” Richie gasped as he dropped a box labeled Sexy Time Things ;) next to Eddie’s. It was actually full of books, Richie had just gone around mislabeling all the boxes so that he could watch Eddie turn that particular shade of red-almost-purple when he figured it out.
“Regardless! The bed is the most important thing. I’m not sleeping on the floor and that’s final.”
So there they were, brushing their teeth side-by-side in the empty, echoey ensuite bathroom. Richie smiled at Eddie in the mirror, his mouth full of toothpaste foam. It dribbled down his chin, threatening to drop onto his shirt. Eddie elbowed him in the ribs, so Richie bent over and spat into the pristine sink before pressing a minty fresh kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Eddie scowled and rubbed the toothpaste residue off, still brushing his own teeth.
Then they were sliding under the covers, Eddie slotting himself up against Richie and kissing at his neck, sucking a mark into the skin there. Richie moaned softly, his hand sliding underneath Eddie’s t-shirt, feeling his warm skin.
“Eds-”
“Mmm,” Eddie hummed into his throat, biting at his Adam’s apple.
“Eds, could we maybe just, like. Sleep?” Richie felt his cheeks warm.
Eddie pulled back. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed and Richie could feel his semi pressed against Richie’s thigh. “Huh?” He asked, looking extremely confused, his thick eyebrows drawn close together.
Richie swallowed. “I just. I kind of want to just sleep? Like spend our first night sleeping here and nothing else. Is that okay?”
Eddie pecked the corner of his mouth. “Of course it’s okay, sweetheart.” He had a small smile on his lips, eyes shining. Fuck, Richie loved him.
They rearranged themselves, Eddie holding Richie from behind, one hand gripping firmly at his chest. Everything was still and quiet for a few minutes, Richie wasn’t sure if Eddie was still awake, but he had to ask.
“Eddie? Are you happy here? With the house?”
Eddie was silent for a second before Richie felt him kiss the base of his neck and he said. “Of course I am. It’s perfect because you’re here.”