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The first time Eddie ever slept in Richie's bed was for a very good reason.
It was the middle of the night, the time at which the flat was the most silent. Hours had passed since the two had returned from the pub, still high off the excitement of Richie's television gig that afternoon (an extra in a loo roll commercial! Talk about big breaks!). Of course whenever Richie had a gig it was time for another one of their famous Lager Frenzies. You'd think Eddie was the one being celebrated, the way he practically drank up the pub's entire supply.
To make a long story short, the aftermath of said celebration was not going very well for him at that moment.
Miserably he turned on one of the lights and made the journey across the flat to Richie's room, already missing the comfort of his blankets as the harsh chill of the night prodded at him. He wished he had another option. He wished his body hadn't chosen this hour to suddenly violently reject all the alcohol and cause him to be sick all over his only bed and his only clean blankets. He wished the lounge wasn't so cold; he would've been just fine on the couch any other way. He wished Richie's room wasn't the warmest in the flat. Most of all, he really wished this thought wouldn't occur to him at all.
There he stood in front of Richie's door, blankly and very tiredly staring it down in a moment of anxiety. Deeply sighing and shrugging at no one, he carefully grabbed the knob and twisted it gently (oo-er), pushing the door open with as little force as possible to prevent any loud noise.
The opening of the door revealed Richie's bedroom, the light from behind Eddie pouring into the otherwise dark room. An array of sparkly suit jackets on the wall barely glimmered as he carefully stepped forward, his eyes immediately darting over to the bed. In said bed, under a portrait of him, was Richie himself. He lay on his side, closely holding a teddy bear to his chest. From the peaceful expression on the man's face, it could quickly be deduced that he was sound asleep. Oh, good, Eddie thought with relief. I don't have to explain anything to him.
He was amazed how, even after he'd less than gracefully crawled into bed with him, flipping up his covers and practically diving under them, Richie's slumbering state had not changed for a second. All that drunkenly asking the bar maid if she wanted his autograph must have tired him out for good that night. Eddie smirked to himself. He was looking forward to sleeping that well.
As he closed his eyes to drift to sleep, he turned away from Richie to face the ceiling instead.
Maybe it'd be just a little easier to explain that way.
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In his own defense, the second time was unintentional.
Richie was waffling on about some witty, banter-filled conversation he'd had with Tarby about golfing in winter or something like that when, according to Rich, Eddie was so bored to tears that he laid back where he sat on the edge of his bed and fell asleep halfway through. A shame; Richie was just getting to the really good part! (Something prevented him from really believing that, though. That and the proposition that this Tarby conversation had ever even occurred at all). Still, Richie said he couldn't be bothered to try and move him so he just left him there. However, Eddie knew part of this was slightly untrue, because when he woke up that morning, he was further up on the bed, resting on a pillow now rather than just blanket and mattress at the end of the bed. He was under the blanket, too, and when he looked over to his side, there was Rich, sleeping soundly on his back, his head turned in his direction. It was rare that Eddie ever saw him so still. Richie might not have been bothered to move him to his room, but he had bothered to move him so he could be more comfortable.
But that whole idea was vehemently denied when brought up to him the next day. Richie insisted Eddie had done all of that himself and, had he known at the time that Eddie was in his bed, he would have thrown him out with haste.
Eddie didn't bother arguing with him, dismissing the conversation with a knowing smirk.
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By time number 3, his reasons began declining in quality.
Richie had turned to him with a dramatic sigh, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. “And why are you in my bed again, Edward?”
“Mine got struck by lightning,” he replied, which was actually total bollocks. He looked very comfortable where he lay next to the other man, his hands intertwined on the pillow behind him to cradle his head. He looked a little too comfortable, in fact.
Rich wasn't buying it. “Eddie,” he groaned.
“Okay, okay, erm,” Eddie tried again, with even less effort. “I had gotten up to go to the lav and when I came back there was this pirate invasion happening, right, and-”
Richie just groaned dramatically, appearing to have accepted that he wasn't going to get a straight answer. “Never mind, just shut up and go to sleep.” He followed his own instructions and turned the other way, forcing himself to settle down into his pillow.
Eddie grinned, satisfied with himself. Rich was too much fun to annoy.
Actually, it just got too quiet, his inner monologue revealed the real reason, but only to himself. I got bored after you went to bed. Besides, I don't even like my bed that much, anyway.
Richie sighed quietly, contently, and his breathing became slow and relaxed. It hadn't taken him long at all to be out for the night. A full day of being the “super world famous Richie Rich” was enough to tire anyone out, Eddie figured. Speaking of which, the man in question appeared to be holding something. Eddie sat up a bit and looked over Richie's shoulder. This was proven to be true; upon further investigation, it was discovered that he was clutching a small, old-looking teddy bear with a faded blue ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. Eddie smiled.
He sank back down into his original position, his smile now directed at the ceiling. He couldn't wait to tease him for it in the morning.
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However, above all, the fourth time was arguably the most memorable.
Eddie was on the sofa watching a bit of television. He held one of the pillows that was laying on the couch cushion to his chest, hugging it boredly. It was starting to get late now, but not even the long day and the copious amounts of alcohol could settle him down enough to where he felt like he could sleep. His consciousness was in that state of purgatory of being both dead tired and wide awake at the same time, and he was hating it so far.
Behind the sofa, Rich passed by him slowly. He stopped when he got to the doorway of his bedroom, pausing to look back at Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “Well?” He questioned with a hint of sarcasm. “Aren't you coming to bed?”
Eddie's eyes widened upon hearing him say this. Sure, it made sense for him to ask, seeing as Eddie had been sharing Richie's bed for the past few nights now, but...He just didn't think Rich would ever actually acknowledge it, much less now expect it.
...How did he know that's what he was planning on doing, anyways?!
Or, what he'd originally been planning. For some odd reason, hearing him say it like that scared him, made him fully realize the gravity of the situation he'd gotten himself into. Maybe getting that close to Rich was a bad idea.
“Heh...oo-er,” he said instinctively at the suggestion, trying to hide how nervous it made him. “I'm not tired yet. I'll go to bed in a bit.”
Richie stuck his nose in the air. “And I can only hope it's your own this time! You're beginning to stink up the sheets on mine, it keeps me awake at night.” After he was sure he'd gotten the last word in, he turned on his heel and retreated into his room.
Eddie couldn't help but grin devilishly. It was always a great mistake on Rich's part when he revealed to him what annoyed him. “On second thought, Richie, I'm suddenly feeling very very tired!”
He didn't have to stay. He would mess with him for a minute and then he would leave and never do it again. This seemed like a decent enough compromise. In an instant he was on his feet and running to Rich's door, only pausing for a moment when the man exclaimed in surprise and promptly shut it in his face.
He delivered several knocks upon the door. “Richieeeee, let me in!”
“I will not! Go away!” Richie's muffled voice called from behind the door in reply.
Eddie quickly tried to think of something that would get him to open it. “Richieeee,” he called again. “Erm...Tarby's at the door, he wants to see you!”
“...Right now?!” Of course Rich would fall for that. “Ooh, what a surprise! He probably wants that shirt back. You know, the one that I nicked from his dressing room last Saturday.” Eddie smirked as he watched Richie slowly open the door.
As soon as it was open enough, he seized the opportunity to run past him into the room and practically tackle Rich's bed. “Ah,” he made himself comfortable against one of Rich's pillows, crossing his arms behind his head for extra effect. “Nice and comfy.”
“Eddie!” By the doorway, Rich tightened his fists, fuming at him. “You...you...git-face!” The weak insult had barely escaped him before he followed suit in jumping onto the bed, promptly gripping a pillow and whacking Eddie with it, the impact knocking the blonde off of the bed. “Sod off!”
Poking his head up from the floor, Eddie was immediately getting back onto his feet. “Oh, so that's how it is, eh?” Arming himself with the pillow he'd previously been resting on, grinning madly, he immediately jumped back onto the bed and delivered a blow to Rich in return. Rich wasted no time in striking him again, and suddenly it was a...
PILLOW FIGHT!
Even though Rich had started the pillow battle annoyed with Eddie, by the end of it he was laughing hysterically along with his minder as they halfheartedly beat each other up. It seemed he was still enjoying himself even while he was losing; in no time, Eddie was hovering above him, and Richie held his pillow over his face in surrender. “Alright, alright!” He barely managed to let out a sentence in between incessant giggling. “You win! I surrend!” It was very Richie of him to shorten that last word, surrender. “You can get off me now!”
Eddie relented for a minute to register the position in which they had ended up with. The color practically drained from his cheeks in embarrassment when he realized he had Richie pinned below him, and he was sitting back on his legs, nearly straddling him. He leaped off of him faster than light and was immediately cowering to the side of Richie's bed. “Sorry.”
So much for messing with him and leaving. This was beginning to mess with him now. It was probably best for him to get out of there before things got even more out of hand. Right as he was turning around to get up he felt a hand gently clutch his wrist. When he turned his head back around he was met with the big, stupid blue eyes of Richie Rich staring right into his soul. For a very short moment those eyes sent a genuine message, almost as if to say don't go.
...Until Richie let go and crossed his arms, holding his pillow to his chest. “Erm – I changed my mind!” Just that quick, his nose was in the air again, desperate to restore his usual snootiness. “You've already made a mess of this bed so you may as well stay in it instead of leaving me to tidy it all up, like I know you were going to do! Bastard!”
Even with all the extra bits added in, Eddie understood what he was trying to say. He knew staying went against his better judgment. There was a tension looming in the air that was giving him the strange feeling that something may happen between them that they couldn't come back from. But the room was really warm. Rich's bed felt soft under him. The lights were dim enough to cast calming silhouettes over the walls. He wanted to stay. Richie actually looked somewhat surprised when he saw Eddie move back over to his original spot, but he didn't let it show for long.
“How come you always come back?” He suddenly asked.
Eddie was caught off guard by this question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...” Rich was only half looking at him. “Every time I wake up in the morning and notice you're in here, I kick you out immediately. I make quite a show of it too, I think that alarm clock broke when I threw it at you the other day.” He laughed a little bit, then regained his serious tone. “But still...you keep doing it anyway.”
Eddie wished Richie hadn't asked him this, because, to be completely honest, he didn't have an answer. Why did he always end up sleeping with Richie (oo-er)? He had a perfectly fine bedroom of his own that he enjoyed plenty. It did have all his stuff in it, after all. But it was all the way across the flat, really far away. It got cold at night. Really quiet, too, almost unnaturally quiet...
...because Richie wasn't there. Eddie didn't like sleeping in his room because Richie wasn't there.
He said his realization out loud, slowly, right as it came to him, as if he were revealing it to both himself and Rich. “Because I like being with you.” His voice had a hint of vulnerability hidden in its softness. The thought was something entirely new to him.
“Well, obviously!” Rich didn't seem too surprised; or, at least, he didn't act like he was, looking proudly towards the ceiling. “If I lived with a celebrity, I'd never want to leave their side either!”
Eddie just rolled his eyes and said nothing in reply. Richie must have noticed and therefore tried to act a little more serious. “But...I'm happy you decided to stay,” he muttered shyly. He suddenly made the bold move of taking Eddie's hand in his, looking far away in the other direction. “I...like being close to you...like this...”
Eddie's heart thumped loudly in his ears as he felt Richie hold his hand. Nervously, he scooted closer to him, and they met in the middle; they sat in the middle of the bed, still hand-in-hand, and he smiled down at him. He didn't mind being this close to Richie that much, either.
Rich was blushing like crazy when he spoke again. “B-but don't expect me to always be this kind!” As he gave him this warning, he laid down and got comfortable, causing Eddie to follow suit. “There's gonna be a whole squadron of birds hanging about in here one of these days; then where will you be?”
Eddie grinned mischievously. “Under the bed, maybe.”
Richie looked shocked. “You most certainly will not be!”
The blonde laughed softly after getting such a reaction from him. The smile never left his face. “Goodnight, Richie.”
“I don't even think you could fit under the bed.”
“Goodnight, Richie,” he said again. He'd keep saying it until he said it back, that was just something he did.
“Plus, they'd notice you under there and then they probably wouldn't want to do it at all after that! Would you shag somebody with a git under his bed?!”
“Goodnight, Richie!”
Out of nowhere, Richie turned to face him and quickly pecked a kiss onto his cheek to shut him up. He let himself relax against him and gave his hand one last squeeze. He spoke much more softly now, returning his smile. “Goodnight, Eddie.”
And with that, they closed their eyes.