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Eddie pulled his black overcoat on over his burnt orange sweater. It was a cold October day, and the wind chill only added to the bitterness.
He grabbed Richie’s leather jacket from its hanger before exiting the closet, then walked into the bathroom where his husband was standing in front of the mirror attempting to apply propolis ointment to the inside of his mouth.
Eddie draped the jacket over the side of the tub.
“Here, baby,” he murmured, taking the tube from Richie’s hands. “Lemme see...”
Richie wordlessly sat down on the edge of the tub and opened his mouth. Eddie grabbed a small flashlight from the drawer and shined it in.
He frowned and hummed in sympathy, “Yep. Got some angry ones in there.”
Richie didn’t say anything, making Eddie all the more worried about their soon-to-be outing.
The dark circles under Richie’s eyes were already clear as day, and the fact he wasn’t talking just proved how tired he was.
Eddie thoroughly washed his hands before stretching on some blue nitrile gloves. Then he put the flashlight between his teeth and squirted some of the ointment onto his index finger. He applied the healing substance to each angry, painful sore within Richie’s mouth.
“You know,” Eddie said when he removed the flashlight from his mouth. “It’s not too late to back out if you’re too tired.”
He could see Richie’s throat contract as he made a noise of disapproval.
“It’s only been a few days since your last treatment,” Eddie continued, squirting more ointment onto his finger and applying it to another inflamed sore. “We would all understand if you-”
Richie made another noise and Eddie retracted his hand from his mouth.
Richie closed his mouth and smiled at him. It was tired, yet genuine.
He put a hand on Eddie’s cheek, “I’m fine. I promised Elizabeth I was going to go, and I don’t intend to break that promise.”
Eddie sighed and removed his gloves. He placed his hand over Richie’s, “Beverly and Ben talked to her. She would understand too.”
Richie’s face fell a little, clearly displeased with the fact that they told his niece that he may not make it to watch her part in the annual Halloween Parade. He knew their hearts were in the right place, and Richie would be lying if he said he didn’t contemplate not going. Especially when he woke up that morning and every single muscle in his body ached like he’d just completed a triathlon completely unprepared and out of shape. Or when he almost fainted upon standing up too fast from the kitchen table after letting yet another delicious breakfast Eddie made for him go to waste.
Or when he looked at himself in the mirror after getting out of the shower a mere thirty minutes prior to this very moment.
Not that he’d ever really admired his appearance before. He’d always said he resembled a frog with his pudgy belly and gangly limbs.
But now he couldn’t help but detest his appearance. He found that he actually missed his gut now that it was gone. Now he looked too skinny. Malnourished, even. Not to mention the big scar on his stomach where they had removed the sizeable tumor and some of the surrounding tissue. It made him look like Frankenstein’s Monster.
Tis the season, though, he supposed.
And then there was his face.
Whereas before, Richie actually believed his jawline to be his best physical feature, now it jutted out too dramatically. It made his cheeks look all the more gaunt and hollowed.
To go along with the annoyingly painful sores in his mouth, his lips were terribly chapped. There was a large red spot on his lower lip that kept cracking open and bleeding.
And to top it all off, he was bald. Completely fucking bald.
No eyebrows. No eyelashes. Not a single curl on his damn scalp.
He looked ridiculous.
Richie had already been fighting a receding hairline before being diagnosed, so he knew that his hair would never come back from this. Eddie would look like a fucking supermodel doing charity work with a decrepit old man.
At least the beanies he wore helped him look less like a freak, though.
“I’m fine,” Richie said. “Really.”
Eddie searched his eyes for a moment before nodding, “Okay. But you promise you’ll let me know if you feel like you need to go home?”
“Pinky promise, Doctor K,” Richie said, holding up his pinky finger.
Eddie looped his own pinky finger around Richie’s, “Okay, put on your jacket. It’s cold.”
“Yes, daddy,” Richie replied.
Eddie shot him a glare before leaving the bathroom.
Richie slipped a tacky navy and orange jacquard cardigan sweater over his Creepshow t-shirt before layering it with the leather jacket.
Somehow, amidst the layering, he managed to knock his black beanie askew.
“Shit!” he hissed as it popped completely off his head.
“Rich, do you know where my-” Eddie asked as he walked back into the bathroom.
Richie quickly retrieved the beanie from the floor and yanked it back onto his head. He straightened up and tried to act casual, “What?”
Eddie just stood there, looking at him with a dejected expression.
“What?” Richie asked a little snappishly.
Because Eddie definitely deserved that.
Eddie had been there every step of the way through Richie’s diagnosis and treatment. He’d been there to hold Richie’s hand during every single appointment. He’d been there for every check-in to the hospital, sleeping in uncomfortable chairs and cots by Richie’s bedside. He’d been there for every chemotherapy session...and there to wipe puke from Richie’s chin when he was too weak and tired to do it himself.
And how does Richie repay him? By snapping at him like an asshole.
Before he could apologize, Eddie stepped forward and gently pushed the beanie up on Richie’s scalp. He cupped the sides of his face and got up on his tip toes. He pressed his lips to the highest part he could reach on Richie’s smooth, bald scalp.
Richie felt burning well up in his eyes. He swallowed thickly around the lump of emotion in his throat.
He had expected the touch to burn, because he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone seeing his ugly appearance so out, vulnerable, and...well... naked like this...let alone touching it.
He felt like Eddie’s touch should burn. So why didn’t it?
Eddie moved the beanie back down, pulling it almost halfway down Richie’s forehead where he liked it.
“You are a beautiful, beautiful man,” Eddie said with such sincerity that Richie almost believed him.
Almost.
“And I love you so, so much. You know that right?”
Richie blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.
Eddie’s hands were still pressing on his cheeks, distorting his words a bit as he replied, “I love you too.”
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Downtown was packed, which meant finding a parking spot was damn near impossible. To make matters worse, various streets were blocked off.
This was the case every year, yet for some reason Eddie and Richie never learned.
After twenty minutes of cursing and circling, Eddie managed to snag a spot a few blocks from where they were supposed to meet the others.
Eddie walked around to the other side of the car.
“Hey! Check out that animatronic!”
“Oh, hey, there’s the werewolf guy on stilts we see every year.”
“Damn, Café Nightcap really went all out on their decorations this year."
Richie wasn’t stupid. He knew Eddie was hovering in case he needed help.
Richie loved him so fucking much.
As soon as his feet were planted solidly on the cobblestone street, Richie tucked his hand into Eddie’s.
Eddie grinned up at him, “You ready?”
“As ready as my mama’s spaghetti, my Eddie.”
They waded through the crowd, almost tripping over kids and nearly getting rammed into by adults and rude teens. A couple of those times, Eddie snapped, “Hey, man! Watch it! We’re walkin’ here!” Sounding like the feisty little New York man that he was.
Richie was again reminded of how much he loved his firecracker of a husband.
He gripped Eddie’s hand a little tighter.
Eddie looked back at him, worry on his face, but it smoothed out when Richie smiled at him.
The whole gang was there by the time they arrived.
Beverly and Ben were running a fundraising stand selling apple cider, hot chocolate, tea, and coffee. There were folding chairs set up off to the side where Mike, Bill, Stan, and Patty were sitting and talking. Patty was bouncing Sammy on her knee, and Richie was certain he was ten times chubbier since the last time he saw him.
The eleven-month-old was dressed in a fuzzy brown onesie, bear ears on top of the hood that covered his head. His little nose was colored black and three little whiskers were drawn on each cheek to match. Layered over the onesie was the smallest black parka fit for a Cabbage Patch doll.
Sammy noticed Eddie and Richie first, eyes big, blue, and sparkling over his chubby cheeks. Whether he actually recognized them or not was a mystery.
Richie had whined that he didn’t want Sammy to forget him while he was in the hospital, recovering from surgery, and going through the last of his treatment. Or, what he hoped to be the last of his treatment.
Stan and Patty had tried to reassure him that Sammy would remember him, but Richie wasn't so sure.
Richie smiled and waved to the baby, mouthing ‘hello’ as he did so.
“Rich! Eds!” Bill called as he noticed them.
Everyone stood up and they all embraced each other like they hadn’t seen Richie and Eddie in years. Though, after Richie’s recent health issues, it was understandable. All of them had been so terrified of losing a member of their family.
Patty came over to them last, Sammy tucked in her arm.
“Sammy! Look who it is!” she gasped theatrically, as was the norm for baby talk. “It’s Uncle Eddie and Uncle Richie!”
Eddie had seen Sammy a lot more recently than Richie, so there was no risk of him forgetting his face. Richie, however, hadn’t interacted with the baby in over a month.
“Hey, Sammy, buddy!” Richie cooed, bending down so he could be eye level with the eleven-month-old. “Remember me? I’m your favorite uncle!”
“Hey! ” Mike, Bill, Ben, and Eddie protested simultaneously.
A few seconds went by where Sammy just stared at Richie, Elmo pacifier twitching in his mouth as he sucked on it. Then he made a cute little whining noise and extended his short, pudgy arms toward him.
Richie’s face lit up and he accepted Sammy into his arms, “Hey, buddy!”
“See, Rich? Told you he’d remember you,” Stan said with a small smile.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” Richie said.
“Which is all the time, I might add.”
Richie flipped him off.
"You can't flip me off while holding my baby, you asshole!" Stan exclaimed.
A few minutes later, Richie was standing underneath the red fundraising tent, still holding Sammy and talking with Ben and Beverly. Eddie was drinking apple cider as he sat with Stan, Patty, Mike, and Bill.
“So how’s he been doing?” Bill asked, eyes on Richie as he laughed about something Beverly said.
Eddie nodded as he took a sip of his hot cider, “Pretty good. All things considered, y’know. I honestly thought about making him stay home tonight, but...I didn’t want to be...”
He trailed off, but his friends understood.
“You’re just looking out for him, Eds,” Mike said, placing a warm hand on Eddie’s knee.
“I know. And I’m trying to not be overbearing. I really am.”
“We know,” Bill said sympathetically. “You’ve been great.”
Eddie sighed heavily.
Sometimes, he felt like he wasn’t doing nearly enough, but that was only because there wasn’t much he could do. All he could do was be there for Richie as he received rounds of chemotherapy...and be there for him as he disintegrated into a sicker and weaker state with each session.
And when the tumor had finally shrunk enough that it could be removed, all Eddie could do was wait while he underwent surgery.
And then, all he could do was be there for him as he recovered.
After that, the cycle of “being there” repeated yet again as Richie underwent yet another round of chemotherapy to try and ensure that the cancer was completely wiped out.
“Eddie? You okay?” Patty asked gently, touching his shoulder.
Eddie snapped back to the present, realizing he must have been quiet for a while.
“Yeah, yeah...sorry,” Eddie said, sniffing a bit and rubbing at his eyes.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Stan murmured, eyebrows furrowed in sympathy. “We told you, we’re here whenever you need to talk.”
“Or hit something,” Mike said. “Bill and I still have that punching bag up in the garage.”
Eddie chuckled, "Thanks. All of you, thank you. We really appreciate all you've done for us during these past few months."
They gave him warm smiles, which Eddie returned. But then his face fell as he saw Richie hobbling over.
“Here’s your momma, Sammy Boy,” Richie said as cheerily as possible, though his voice was strained.
Patty quickly accepted her son back and smiled at him before looking back up at Richie in concern. Eddie stood up and held out an arm for him to hold on to.
“You okay, Rich? What’s wrong?”
“Nothin'. Just need to...sit is all,” Richie said as casually as possible, though he held onto Eddie’s arm for support.
Eddie guided him to the open chair between he and Bill. Richie practically collapsed into it.
“Sammy and I got all caught up,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Stan asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Yep. We discussed who we think will host SNL this year, who we want to see run in the next presidential election, the stock market...”
“I’m sure he had a lot of stellar inputs,” Patty said before looking at Sammy and cooing with a big smile on her face. “Didn’t you?”
Richie, Eddie, Bill, and Mike smiled at them.
Patty and Stan made such amazing parents, just as they all knew they would. Once they got past the hurdle of anxiety, they were able to extend their family, and it was clear that neither of them had any regrets.
And, somehow, Stan’s lovey dovey googly eyes for his wife had only amplified.
“Think you’ll have any more, Pats?” Mike asked innocently.
Patty gave an exasperated sigh, “Ask me after I’ve lost all this extra baby weight. Then I’ll think about it.”
Stan gave her a disapproving look. She gave it right back as she handed Sammy over for him to hold.
“Well, in my opinion, you’ve never looked better Patty, my dear,” Richie said.
“M’aw,” Patty grinned before going over and leaning down to plant a kiss right on his beanie-covered forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
She then walked over to Ben and Beverly to get a cup of coffee.
“What the fuck, Rich? Trying to steal my wife?” Stan asked.
“Always, Stan my man,” Richie replied. “We all know she wants me.”
“Uh huh...” Stan noised. Then he saw someone over their heads and he held up his hand in a wave. “Oh, hold on, I’ll be right back. I see our babysitter from last week. Totally forgot to tip her.”
“Wow. You’re a piece of shit.”
“Mhm,” Stan hummed, standing up and bending down to kiss Richie on the head right in the spot his wife had moments prior.
Richie muttered a small noise of complaint, though it was clear he didn’t mean it.
Richie was who he was. A slut for affection.
Stan teasingly pushed the beanie down over Richie’s eyes and walked away.
The parade came and went with a plethora of creative floats and costumes. Machines spat out fog and flashed colorful lights while people tossed candy out to all the anticipatory, excited kids.
Elizabeth was riding on her soccer team’s float. She and her teammates were dressed as zombie soccer players and waving at the crowd.
Her face lit up when she saw her Uncle Richie had made it to the parade. She waved and smiled wide, braces gleaming in the colorful lights.
By the time the parade ended, Richie was beyond exhausted, but he stood firm on staying long enough to hug Elizabeth and compliment her on her team’s float.
That night, Eddie assisted Richie with putting propolis ointment on his mouth sores again before crawling into bed.
Richie put his glasses on the bedside table and collapsed into bed beside Eddie. He let out a long sigh combined with a groan as his body settled into the mattress. He was still wearing the black beanie on his head, much to Eddie's discontent.
“Hey,” Richie murmured sleepily when he noticed Eddie staring at him.
“Hey,” Eddie replied. “You feeling okay?”
“Feeling pretty achy and sore,” Richie replied honestly. “But I’m fine. Great, actually.”
Eddie smiled, “Yeah?”
Richie nodded against the pillow, “Yeah. Felt good to see everyone and to just be...out like normal again. Y’know?”
“I know,” Eddie agreed, bringing his hand up to brush his fingers through Richie’s curls...only to remember that that was no longer possible. So, instead, he placed a hand on his sharp cheekbone.
“What’s up, Eds?” Richie asked.
Eddie bit his lip, not wanting to push and pester, but also feeling like Richie needed to hear what was on his mind.
“I wish...I just...” Eddie started and Richie’s frown deepened and he pressed his hand over Eddie’s that still rested on his cheek. “I wish I was able to make you feel comfortable.”
“What?” Richie asked in surprise. “You do. I am comfortable with you, Eds.”
“No, no, I know, but...not like before,” Eddie said, eyes falling to Richie’s chest. “You just seem so...worried about how you look now...even when it’s just me. And...and I just wish...I wish-”
“Eddie," Richie said seriously.
Eddie stopped talking and looked into Richie’s eyes.
“The beanie stays on during sex."
Eddie stared at him for a full two seconds before Richie's face cracked into a grin.
Eddie sputtered out a laugh, burying his face in Richie’s chest. He could feel Richie’s body shaking with laughter as well.
“You’re so stupid.”
“I know. You love me.”
Eddie tilted his head up, “I do.”
Richie leaned down so he could kiss him. Eddie returned the kiss, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Richie’s head.
Richie’s breath hitched and he pulled away, but only slightly.
“Richie, baby...” Eddie murmured. “Can I take it off? Please? I want to see you.”
Richie squeezed his eyes shut, as though to not see his ugliness reflected in Eddie’s eyes.
Finally, though, he nodded.
His eyes remained closed as Eddie pushed the beanie up until it slid off his smooth head. He couldn’t see the way Eddie was looking at him...with eyes so full of warmth and love.
“Rich...”
Richie inhaled sharply before opening his eyes.
Eddie smiled at him and tilted Richie's head down so he could kiss the crest of his bald head.
Richie's skin was warm and smelled of mint body wash. It was a relief to not catch even a whiff of hospital smell.
He smelled like Richie again. His husband, whom Eddie loved with every fiber of his being.
“I love you, Rich. I love you so, so much,” Eddie murmured against his scalp.
Richie wrapped his arms around him and melted against his chest. Eddie could feel his shuddering breaths before he felt the wetness of tears soaking into his shirt.
Eddie tucked Richie’s head further into the crook of his neck.
He continued murmuring words of love in between soft kisses. All the while stroking the back of his smooth head, dragging his nails along the skin just the way he had in the past whenever Richie would ask him to play with his hair.
Finally, Richie fell asleep.
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The next morning, Eddie was surprised to see Richie wasn’t in bed with him.
Eddie immediately sprang up and went to check the bathroom. He was relieved to see that Richie wasn’t there getting sick.
He walked downstairs and was immediately met with the wonderful smell of coffee brewing. He could also hear the tea kettle whistling as it got hot on the stove.
Eddie walked into the kitchen to see Richie pouring the hot water from the kettle into a Halloween mug that had an illustrated goose wearing a witch hat, stating: “HONKUS PONKUS.”
Eddie was surprised. Richie hadn't gotten up this early in ages.
But the most astonishing thing was that he wasn’t wearing a beanie.
The pale, smooth skin of his scalp was out in the open, slightly catching the sun’s morning rays shining through the windows.
He looked absolutely radiant.
Eddie slid forward on socked feet, and before Richie could even turn and acknowledge his presence, Eddie had his arms around him, hugging him from behind. His hands rested over the scar on Richie’s abdomen. It was covered by his shirt, but Eddie could still feel the raised skin through the fabric.
Richie smiled and covered Eddie’s hands with one of his own, the other moving up to touch Eddie’s ruffled bedhead, "’Morning, Eds. Sleep well?”
“Mhm. And you?”
Richie turned within Eddie’s embrace so he could face him and hold him properly, “Best I’ve slept in a long time. Thank you.”
Eddie smiled up at him. He knew Richie was thanking him for more than the question he’d asked.
And, finally, Eddie felt like he had done more than just being there.
Eddie held the sides of Richie’s face and leaned up on his toes so he could kiss Richie’s bald head...and Richie actually tilted his face down to make it easier.
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