Chapter Text
It’s not that Richie hated his job.
He insisted that he just “lost track of time” whenever he walked to the coffee shop that was too far away for him to make it there and back in the allocated time for his lunch break- even though it did happen multiple times a week, far too often for Richie to not realize that going there would result in him being late. He really did get sick quite often, and definitely wasn’t just taking advantage of his generous amount of sick days to skip out on work when he was hungover or just didn’t feel like coming into the office. Of course he didn’t purposefully go on sketchy websites that downloaded a virus to his computer so that he wouldn’t be able to do any work until the IT guys fixed it- that was just an accident!
Alright, maybe Richie did hate his job. But, to be fair, it wasn’t like his job treated him very well either. From the way he was more often than not loaded with more work than he could possibly get done in a single day, to how he was expected to spend more than his contractual hours in the office slaving away at his desk without any extra pay, to how his boss was always breathing down his neck and always seemed to have something to say about Richie’s clothes or his attitude or his work performance, even when Richie was trying his best. The salary wasn’t anything special either- it was fine, but nothing close to what Richie thought he deserved for putting up with everything that was thrown at him.
So maybe Richie did hate his job… but, there were some things that made staying worth it.
And one of those things was Eddie Kaspbrak.
Eddie Kaspbrak was the five-foot-nine, wide-eyed, high-strung man that occupied the desk a few cubicles away from Richie. Eddie had been with this company forever ( Richie remembered hearing him say that this year would mark a decade, which Richie thought was insane that Eddie had been here for so long without going completely insane ) and he took his job seriously. He was bossy and a perfectionist- he held his own work to quite a high standard, and he expected everybody else to meet that standard as well, and he wasn’t afraid to call out those who didn’t.
Most people in the office didn’t like Eddie Kaspbrak very much.
But, there was a side to Eddie Kaspbrak that Richie suspected most people in the office didn’t see too often, or even knew about.
Because while most of them knew ‘Mr. Kaspbrak’, who would lecture a coworker for a half-hour if they didn’t do their job properly, Richie knew Eddie, who had spent an hour helping the new intern calm down from a panic attack after she had been yelled at by their boss on her first day. Richie had several times heard the joke that circulated the office every so often, that Mr. Kaspbrak had some sort of weird muscular disease that caused his face to be permanently stuck in a frown. But, Richie knew Eddie , who was capable of laughing, and although it didn’t come out too often around the office, when it did, his laugh was more like a giggle, and when he found something really funny, his laugh would sometimes come out as a snort and his ears would turn pink. Most people in the office might have described Mr. Kaspbrak as cold, harsh, and kind of an asshole. But Richie knew Eddie , who had a kind heart under all that tough perfectionism and adamancy for following the rules.
And because of that… Eddie was also Richie’s work crush.
Richie knew that ‘crush’ was probably a bit of an outdated term to use, considering he was a thirty-five-year-old adult man with adult things like an apartment and a car and a career at a well-respected insurance firm, and not a twelve-year-old schoolgirl gossiping to her friends on the playground about the boy she liked. However, considering the way Richie’s nerves acted up and his palms and ears grew warm whenever he spoke to Eddie, and how he often caught himself at his desk, daydreaming about Eddie instead of doing work, and how he he always got a little too excited when he would see a new message from Eddie in his email inbox… well, Richie supposed that he wasn’t all that better than a twelve-year-old girl with a crush after all.
Richie had thought that Eddie was cute ever since his first day at the office a few years earlier, but his best guess for when those feelings of simple physical attraction had turned into something more was only a few months after he had gotten hired. It was one night when he and Eddie had stayed at the office late to work on a presentation together for a conference. They had worked together on tasks before, but never for this long, and never just the two of them. It was after a long couple hours of analyzing data and putting reports together that Richie had cracked a joke to try and lighten the mood- and he heard Eddie’s laugh for the first time. Though Richie’s humour wasn’t always well-received, he had more than enough experience in making a crowd laugh- so when Eddie’s laugh left him with a sense of heart-racing excitement that he had never felt before, and that he couldn’t shake for the rest of the night, Richie wasn’t too sure what to make of it.
After that night of working together resulted in a very well-respected presentation at their conference the next day, Richie found himself being assigned to work alongside Eddie more often. Sure, he wasn’t a huge fan of the extra workload, but it didn’t seem all that bad considering who he was sharing that workload with. It was as he spent more time with, and grew to know more about Eddie rather than Mr. Kaspbrak, that Richie began to realize that his feelings towards his coworker were, well… more personal than professional.
He hated having to stay late at work to complete his own tasks, but he would take on the overtime with no complaints if he would be working on something with Eddie. He liked finding ways to make Eddie laugh when they worked together, and it always made him feel accomplished when he did so (especially after he learned more about Eddie’s strict, no-bullshit, no-fun reputation around the office). He found himself spending extra time in the break room whenever Eddie was also in there, stretching out his coffee break from its usual five minutes to fifteen, sometimes twenty, if he could keep Eddie talking for long enough- and not just to waste company time, either, but because these twenty minute chats with Eddie were oftentimes the best part of his entire day.
Richie knew that nothing could ever really happen between them, though. He knew that from the very start, from his very first day with this company, when he read through the Appropriate Workplace Connections section of their employee manual, and learned that romantic and sexual relationships between coworkers were not permitted- or at least, highly discouraged.
But Richie was, for the most part, alright with that. After all, he didn’t even know if Eddie was available, and if he was single, if he was even interested in men. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, never really talked much about his life outside of the office, and didn’t even have any personal photos on his desk that Richie could snoop around at. Richie thought he could probably get away with a casual question about if he had a girlfriend, but judging from the contents of the Appropriate Conversations Between Colleagues subsection of their manual, he didn’t think that he would get away with asking Eddie, who was already a private person as well as a sucker for that handbook of rules, whether his type was more gals or guys, or hell, both. Richie was already a frequent visitor to their HR department, getting called up there at least once every few weeks ‘just for a quick chat’ about his behaviour, and he wasn’t particularly eager for something else to be added to his Reasons for Visit list .
So, in the meantime, Richie was happy enough to admire from afar and to keep his flirting subtle, and to enjoy and appreciate the friendship he had managed to build with Eddie, the designated “Office Asshole”. He was happy enough just to be able to have those coffee break chats for now, and figured he would just have to hold off on asking Eddie out until the day Richie eventually moved on from the company.
Richie’s plan had been working rather well so far, until one unfortunate Wednesday in May, when Beverly Marsh- Richie’s friend from the marketing department downstairs- invited him out for drinks as the workday came to an end.
“It’s to celebrate Ben’s promotion,” she told him, a wide smile on her face, almost as though she was the one climbing the ranks. “You in?”
Ben Hanscom, who had moved to the cubicle beside Richie for the past year and had become one of Richie’s closest work friends during that time, slipped on his coat and failed to hide his furious blush in his collar. “It’s really not a big deal,” he said softly, though the way his smile grew wider as he spoke told Richie that he really felt otherwise.
Richie shut off his computer, despite not having finished all of his tasks for the day, and stood up from his desk. He raised his arms up above his head, stretching them so far that his shirt untucked itself from his pants and his aching back gave a soft crack. Once he stretched out all that tension from sitting in his shitty office chair all day, Richie took a step forward and let his arm fall around Ben’s shoulder. “Not a big deal?” he repeated. “Hanscom, you single-handedly landed the deal that practically saved the entire company from bankruptcy, ya’ hear? If they didn’t give you a promotion after that, well, I’d be marching down to corporate and going on strike outside their offices until they gave you what you deserved, my friend.”
That seemed to only make Ben blush harder, but it also put a wider smile on Beverly’s face. “That’s what I told him!” she said, giving Ben a soft, friendly punch against his chest. “He didn’t think that it was important enough to have a big celebration, I said that it was the biggest accomplishment anyone from your department had achieved in years and that he deserves an entire fucking party. It took a little back and forth, but eventually we settled on drinks at Maturin’s- Ben’s choice.”
“Maturin’s?” Richie repeated, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and throwing it over his shoulder. “I mean, it’s a nice bar, don’t get me wrong, but a little too casual for the occasion, don’t you think?”
“I want it to be casual,” Ben insisted, speaking over Beverly’s mumble of that’s what I said! in agreement with Richie. “Honestly, I don’t want anything fancy. Just having a couple drinks with you guys is all I need.”
If Richie was in Ben’s shoes, he for one knew that he’d definitely be carrying out his own celebration with a dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town using the company’s credit card, but if Ben wanted his casual drinks, then Richie wasn’t going to argue any further.
“Hey, if that’s what the man wants, then that’s what we’ll do!” he said, clapping his hands together. “You invite anyone else along for the festivities?”
“Mike and Stan are on their way back from a conference, but they’re gonna meet us at the bar later,” Beverly said, checking her phone. “And Bill’s already waiting for us downstairs, and he says to hurry our asses up.”
“Well, we better not keep him waiting,” Ben chuckled as he began to follow Beverly out of the office, but Richie stayed put.
At ten-after-five, the office was pretty much empty, everyone already having rushed home for the night. Except, of course, for Richie, Ben, and Beverly… and one other employee, whose head Richie could still see from over the top of the cubicle walls, still working away at his desk.
“Richie?” Ben called, once he and Beverly had reached the door and realized that Richie hadn’t followed them. “You coming?”
Richie gave a quick glance back to them. “Yeah, just… do you mind if I invite along one more?” Beverly and Ben both gave a slightly confused look, but before either of them could reply, Richie turned back towards the office and called out, “Hey, Eds!”
The sound of fingers furiously typing away on a mechanical keyboard suddenly eased, and Richie saw Eddie shift slightly. He didn’t look up, though, and for a worried split second Richie thought that Eddie really was ignoring him, but Richie soon realized his mistake. “Hey, Eddie,” he said, correcting himself on the nickname he knew that Eddie didn’t like, but that Richie couldn’t help himself from using anyways.
At the sound of his real name, Richie heard the squeak of a chair, followed by the rest of Eddie’s head peeking up from over his cubicle, and he had a small, knowing smile. It made Richie’s heart skip a beat when Eddie’s eyes landed on him, but he pulled himself together enough to keep his voice steady as he asked, “Wanna come out for drinks with us? We’re celebrating Ben’s big promotion.”
Riche’s hope deflated slightly before Eddie even spoke, just from the way that a change in Eddie’s eyes made his smile appear not quite as happy. “Sorry, I would, but I’ve got this report to finish by morning,” he said with a light shake of his head. “You guys have fun, though. And Ben- congrats again on the promotion.”
Ben gave a nod of thanks as Eddie dipped back down into his cubicle, and as the rapid clacking of the keyboard began again, Richie couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He had tried to invite Eddie along quite a few times when he and Ben went out after work, but not once had Eddie taken him up on his offer. Richie tried to keep reminding himself that Eddie always did have valid reasons to say no, and that he shouldn’t take any of it personally, but still. He wasn’t sure how many more rejections he could take.
He followed Ben and Beverly down to their office’s parking lot, trailing behind but not really listening to the conversation they were having about the details of Ben’s promotion. Just as Beverly had said before, Bill Denbrough, who used to work with Richie before he got transferred to an office on a different floor, was already waiting for them at his own car. He offered to be the designated driver for the night, and Richie agreed to that with no complaints, happily climbing in the backseat of Bill’s car along with Ben while Beverly took the front.
As they drove along to Maturin’s, Richie found his mind wandering back to the office- well, more specifically, to a certain person in the office.
He was staring out the window and trying his best to keep his expression neutral and inconspicuous- but clearly he wasn’t doing as good of a job as he thought. He had gotten lost in his own thoughts, in the memory of the way he had made Eddie laugh earlier that day with a slightly distasteful joke about their boss, when Ben gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow. Richie turned to look at him, and the look on his friend’s face made Richie think that Ben knew exactly what he had been thinking about.
“Don’t worry,” Ben said, speaking quietly so that his words wouldn’t be heard over Bill and Beverly’s conversation up in the front seat. Richie was about to ask him what he meant, hoping that playing dumb would get him out of this, but before he could Ben added with a teasing grin, “I’m sure your moves will work on him eventually, Romeo.”
Richie’s entire face grew warm as he gave Ben a nudge right back, telling him to shut up, while also internally hoping that Ben’s playful words did hold some truth.
Ben was the only person at the office who knew the truth about Richie’s feelings for Eddie. Ideally, Richie would have liked for no one to know about it- after all, he knew how dangerous office gossip could be when it came to this kind of thing. But, Ben was far too observant not to realize that there was definitely something more going on whenever he saw how Richie interacted with Eddie in particular, compared to everyone else in the office. Richie remembered how embarrassing it had been when he had finally decided to tell Ben ( he felt as though if he kept it to himself any longer all of his emotions would explode out of him, and Richie thought that Ben seemed like his most trustworthy friend to disclose this secret to) , and Ben had thanked him for sharing that secret with him, but admitted that he had already figured it out.
Despite his initial humiliation, though, Richie had to admit- it was nice to finally have someone to talk about all of these feelings with, and he was glad that it was Ben.
Richie tried his best to keep his daydreams of Eddie to a minimum for the rest of the drive, and when that proved rather difficult to do, he wasted no time in trying to drown them out with drinks once they finally arrived at the bar.
Even though Ben generally preferred to stay out of the spotlight, he did let his group of coworkers-turned-friends shower him with the praise he very much deserved for that night. Richie hadn’t been planning to drink too much- after all, this was supposed to be a celebration for Ben- but after he, Beverly, Bill, Mike, and Stanley had each bought a round for the table, Richie found that the logical part of his brain was starting to grow quieter and quieter with each time his glass was refilled.
It was when Richie switched over from ordering shots and instead bought an entire bottle of something (Richie wasn’t too sure what exactly it was he had bought, as all his drinks were starting to taste the same at that point- all he knew was that it was expensive and did the job just right) to drink from and pass around that his memory of the night began to grow fuzzy. He remembered stumbling out of Maturin’s with his arms around Mike and Stanley, and he remembered the group making their way to some other bar down the street and proceeding to spend way too much money in there as well.
The rest of the night was spotty in his memory, chunks of time that were just gone from his consciousness, and Richie could only hope that his less-intoxicated friends had made sure he hadn’t gotten up to anything too embarrassing.
It was during one of those missing chunks of memory that Richie somehow ended up back at home. It was like the universe had suddenly skipped forward on a part of the night that it didn’t like- one moment Richie was at a bar that he didn’t know the name of and challenging Ben to an arm wrestling contest, and the next he was lying in his bed with the rest of the world spinning around him.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten home and up to his ninth-floor apartment (though the next day, a vague memory of Bill dragging him into the elevator and throwing him into his bed would slowly come back to him), but as he drifted off to sleep, the ‘how’ of it all was very quickly overshadowed by the heavy sleep brought on by all those drinks. His body sunk into the soft mattress, finally seeming to calm down from all the buzz and excitement from the night, and Richie was just starting to ease into a dream… when his alarm began to sound.
The repetitive beeping seemed to be much louder than usual, each one emphasizing Richie’s headache and causing him to bury his head underneath his pillow while he reached his hand out, blindly feeling around his bedside table for his phone to turn off the alarm. He groaned out of irritation, figuring that accidentally setting an alarm for the middle of the night must have been just one of the things his drunken self had gotten up to. It was annoying, having been woken up right when he was starting to doze off, but from how tired he felt, Richie was sure he would have no problem falling right back asleep and picking up his dream again once that fucking beeping stopped… until his hand finally found his phone, and Richie peeked out from under his pillow to look at the screen, and he saw the time displayed on his phone.
8:30am.
He had to be at work at 9am.
Richie’s immediate thought was to just call in sick, because technically, it wasn’t a lie. His headache was getting worse by the minute, his stomach churned from how much he drank and how little he ate the night before, and if he tried to stand, he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to remain vertical before exhaustion knocked him back down. He was sick, just not in the typical cold-and-flu way, but his boss didn’t need to know that.
Having finally turned off the irritating beeping of his alarm, Richie pulled his head out from under his pillow and put his glasses back on so he could see his phone screen clearly, and opened up his email to type up a falsely heartfelt and apologetic message to his boss about why he couldn’t come into work today… until Richie saw the email at the top of his inbox, and let out a sigh of frustration and a string of swears.
Reminder to all staff, the email from his boss read. Today we are having our annual individual check-in meetings with Mr. Gray from corporate. These meetings are absolutely mandatory , no exceptions. I expect to see you all in the office today. If there is an emergency, please contact me privately.
Richie ran a hand through his hair, wishing he had drank himself to death the night before, because at least that way, he wouldn’t have to sit through these stupid meetings where he had to talk about his performance and work ethic and goals and hopes and dreams and all that other corporate bullshit. He started to contemplate what would qualify as a good enough emergency for him to ditch work for the day, but when time reached 8:45, Richie miserably realized that the consequences of getting caught in a lie were simply not worth it.
He managed to pull himself out of bed and into a cold shower, trying his best not to vomit (which he failed at… twice). He could barely keep his eyes open as he fumbled through his closet, relying solely on touch to pick out an outfit that he hoped was good enough for work. It was 9:10am before he finally left his apartment, and close to 9:45am before he eventually made it to the office, but he figured that being late was better than not showing up at all, and after dumping his things at his desk, he stumbled over to the break room for some coffee- ignoring Ben’s poor attempt at hiding his laugh and Mike piping up to ask Richie if he had a ‘rough night’. He flipped both of them off as he staggered to the office kitchen, though his eyelids were so heavy that he couldn’t quite keep them open, and didn’t even know if his aim was accurate.
He relied on his sense of touch and his muscle memory to get into the kitchen, pressing a hand to the wall and feeling for when it turned into a doorway. The scent of caffeine and the low hum of the coffee machine let him know he was in the right place, and keeping his hand against the cool granite countertop, he continued to blindly walk forward, desperately feeling around for the coffee machine-
Except before he could find it, he ran into something else instead. Or rather, some one else.
The person was shorter than Richie- he knew because he could feel the press of a muscular shoulder and arm against his chest as he ran into them. It didn’t feel like Richie had fully knocked them over, but he did hear the sound of a mug clattering against the counter, followed by the feeling of something hot and wet spilling onto his hand, and Richie groaned. He forced his tired eyelids open, and his suspicions proved correct as he saw the knocked over cup of coffee on the counter. Thankfully, the coffee hadn’t been hot enough to burn him, but it still did leave his hand feeling sticky, as well as this entire encounter being enough to make his bad morning even worse.
He let his eyes fall shut again as he felt around the countertop for some paper towels to clean himself up with, muttering a vague sorry to the person he had bumped into, though it didn’t sound very genuine.
That is, until the person replied back, “It’s okay,” and Richie realized who he had bumped into.
His eyes sprang open, suddenly feeling more awake and energized than what any cup of coffee could have given him, as he realized with embarrassment that it wasn’t just some random coworker he had bumped into, but that it was Eddie.
Richie grabbed the entire roll of paper towels and immediately began wiping down the countertop, and admittedly did feel a little guilty when he noticed a few splashes of coffee on Eddie’s white shirt. “Shit, Eddie- sorry man,” Richie said. “Didn’t see you there- you okay? Fuck- your coffee, shit’s everywhere- I’ll make you a new one-”
Richie had seen Eddie’s patience explode at miniscule things in the office, like the time somebody sent him an email and forgot to turn off the Sent from my iPhone signature and he ranted for twenty minutes about unprofessionalism, or the time somebody took his lunch out of the fridge and taped a very passive-aggressive note in the kitchen explaining the rules and expectations of a shared kitchen space.
Which was why Richie was rather surprised when Eddie simply smiled, grabbing some paper towel for himself and helping clean up the mess. “Richie, it’s alright,” he interrupted, sounding not at all angry or annoyed. “It’s just coffee, it’s not a big deal. I really should be the one asking- are you okay? You know, walking through the office with your eyes closed isn’t exactly the safest way to get around.”
Richie gave a small chuckle as he tossed the soggy paper towels in the garbage and began to wash the sticky coffee from his hands. “Really?” Richie said, putting on a tone of confusion. “I thought I was on to something there.”
Eddie picked up his mug and placed it upright, and then reached up to the cabinet above him- he had to stand on the tips of his toes and really stretch out his arm to reach the line of mugs, but Richie had a feeling that offering his six-foot-three help wouldn’t be the best idea. Richie simply thought that he was getting himself a different mug after his had overturned and touched the counter ( Eddie was a bit of a germaphobe like that, Richie had noticed over the years of working with him) , so he was once again taken by surprise when Eddie grabbed Richie’s favourite mug- the one he used every day- then took his own, and brought both back over to the coffee machine.
Richie’s stare must have been stronger than he thought, because as Eddie began to fill Richie’s mug with the office-brewed coffee that always tasted a little bit burnt, but that Richie always drank anyways, Eddie glanced over to him. “You did want some coffee, right?” he said.
Quickly snapping out of his little trance, Richie nodded (then immediately regretted it, as the sudden motion reminded Richie of his terrible headache and brought back a little of that nausea). “Y-Yeah, uh- thanks, Eddie.”
“I thought so,” he said, passing the mug over along with the cream carton and some sugar packets. “It seems like you need it.”
How does he know I take my coffee with cream and sugar? Richie thought as he watched Eddie fill up his own mug, then drink it black.
“You’re quite right about that,” Richie agreed, ripping open two sugar packets and dumping them into his drink. “Sorry again, Eds, for-”
“Try again.”
“Sorry again, Eddie, for nearly running you over like that. I, well… I had a bit of a rough one last night. Well, not exactly a rough one, more of a… pretty good one, except I didn’t know when to stop, know what I mean? I don’t even think I’m fully sober yet, if I’m being honest…”
Eddie raised his eyebrows, along with letting out a quiet, entertained chuckle. “Well, yes,” he said, very matter-of-factly. “I figured as much.”
Richie had just barely touched the rim of his mug to his lips, but postponed taking a sip of the coffee he so desperately needed to look back at Eddie, confused. “You could tell all of that just by the way I walked in here?” he asked. “What, do you have hangover senses or something? Or, shit- do I still smell like tequila? I thought I had washed it all off…”
Then, Eddie’s expression changed. It was difficult for Richie to keep his eyes open- the artificial lights of the breakroom were so bright that they hurt his dry eyes and were yet another factor that made his headache worse- but he held his gaze on his coworker, as Eddie seemed to be cycling through a multitude of emotions.
His amused look quickly faded to confusion- his eyebrows scrunching together in the way that Richie had grown familiar with from how often Eddie made that face ( which was incredibly adorable, Richie had to say) around the office. Richie could almost see the gears turning in Eddie’s mind as he worked through the problem (and Richie wished that Eddie would let him in on his thought process, as he was also rather confused), before confusion turned to realization, and Eddie’s expression softened as the answer came to him.
But whatever that answer was, he didn’t share it with the class. Instead, he just gave a small smile- though it looked like he was trying hard to resist a bigger one. “Oh,” was all he said at first, then after another moment of thought, he just added, “You should check your phone.” Then without another word, but with his smile growing bigger, Eddie walked past him and out of the break room- and if Richie wasn’t mistaken, he could have sworn that Eddie’s cheeks had turned a light shade of pink.
But as Richie was left standing there in the break room, he wasn’t thinking about how Eddie was blushing or how he had made Eddie smile three times in the same conversation or how the coffee that Eddie had prepared for him was becoming lukewarm.
No- all that Richie could think about was the feeling of his stomach dropping and his heart stopping and the fact that Eddie had just said the worst thing to be told after a drunken night out.
You should check your phone.
Richie wasted no time doing just that.
Richie didn’t usually post that often to social media, and he was glad to see that that hadn’t changed over the night. The most recent post on his Instagram was from two months earlier, and there had been nothing uploaded to his 24-hour story, so he breathed a sigh of relief to that. It was the same with his Twitter- no new offensive or embarrassing updates there- and even though he rarely opened the app when he was sober, Richie checked his Facebook as well, just to be safe. After all, that was the only social media his mother had, and he certainly didn’t want her to be seeing what it was that her drunken son had gotten up to.
When all his social media was cleared, Richie began to grow a little more confused. What exactly had Eddie meant? He decided to check his camera roll next, thinking that even if he hadn’t posted anything the night before, perhaps he had still taken some telling pictures that somehow made their way to Eddie. But even in his photo gallery, the only evidence he had from his night out was a modest picture of himself and Ben that Mike had taken for them. The timestamp on the picture was only 6:23pm, which meant it had been taken way before Richie’s series of celebratory tequila shots- long before his night became a blur. But, an array of glasses and bottles of alcohol could be seen on the table in the picture, and Richie figured that maybe he had drunkenly sent this photograph to Eddie, and Eddie had just put the pieces together himself.
Richie felt quite a bit of relief as he came to this conclusion, and picked up his mug again to finally take a sip of his coffee, though he couldn’t help but still feel a little unsettled at Eddie’s reaction. The way he had seemed so confused, followed by the look of amusement on his face as he had mysteriously told Richie to check his phone. Richie just brushed it off, deciding that Eddie had just been messing with him, and that had been referring to nothing more than a simple, innocent picture.
But as he opened up his text message conversation with Eddie to confirm his theory, he was faced with something much, much worse.
As it turned out, Richie had not sent that picture of himself and Ben. Instead, he had sent a series of text messages to Eddie- and as he began to read them, that one sip of coffee began to churn in Richie’s stomach.
1:07am
Me: Heyyy edsei
Me: Eddie*
Me: Hey i havea question for you
Me: are u single
Me: Do u like men
Me: You know you;re like the second cutest inthe office..,.. after me of course ;)
Me: We shoulld go out s ometime
1:15am
Eds: Are you drunk?
Me: Nooooiiooo
Me: May be
Eds: You know you have work in the morning, right?
Me: Yesssss
Me: Will u be rhere?
Eds: Yes, I will be at work.
Me: Yaaaaaayyyyy
Me: See yuo tomorrow edsie
Eds: See you tomorrow, Richie.
Eds: Get home safe.
Richie had to read through the conversation a few times. After the third time, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pinched his arm, hard, because he had to be dreaming. Those texts… he had to be still drunk and imagining things. Because there was absolutely, positively, no fucking way that he had drunkenly confessed that he’s into Eddie, and definitely not to Eddie himself, over fucking text!
But, unfortunately, when Richie opened up his eyes again and looked back to his phone, he realized with horror that the texts of “you’re the second cutest in the office” and “we should go out sometime” and “do you like men” were, in fact, completely real.
Richie couldn’t believe this. What was he supposed to do? Richie was no stranger waking up after a night of drinking and finding out that he had done something embarrassing while under the influence, but that was mostly in college. He hadn’t done something as stupid as that in years, and assumed that he had moved on past that idiotic, juvenile phase of life- and yet, here he was at thirty-two years old, having pulled a stunt as stupid as accidentally confessing to his crush that he’s into him.
Nervous sweat began to build up on the back of Richie’s neck and his shaking palms grew clammy as he tried to figure out a way out of this one. Thankfully, Eddie hadn’t seemed too bothered by the whole thing- in fact, he almost seemed to have found it amusing. That did surprise Richie- with the way Eddie had a hard-on for following the rules and had no problem with reporting people who broke said rules in even the slightest of ways, Richie thought for sure he would have already been whisked away by HR for a meeting about workplace boundaries.
So why hadn’t he been?
Eddie must have just thought that it was all a joke, Richie concluded once his thoughts stopped racing around his brain. He knew that Richie was drunk, and so he didn’t take the messages seriously- and maybe he was in a better mood than usual, so that’s why he found the whole thing amusing. Yes, that had to be it. It didn’t make Richie feel any less mortified, but at least Eddie didn’t seem to be bothered by it, and at least it hadn’t made Eddie feel awkward around him, which was a relief.
But even so… what was Richie supposed to do now? Should he apologize? From the casual way Eddie had acted, it didn’t seem like he was looking for one, but should Richie say sorry anyways? Was that the right thing to do after drunkenly confessing to your coworker that you’re into them? Should he embrace it? Should he try to play it off and just make a joke about the whole thing as if it was this hilarious little mistake and not something that made Richie so embarrassed it brought back his nauseating stomach ache? Should he steal Eddie’s phone while he’s not looking and delete the text messages, and trick Eddie into thinking it was all his imagination and pretend that it never happened?
Richie dropped his phone onto the counter beside his cup of cooled coffee, and then dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples as though that would do anything to get rid of all the worried thoughts in his mind. However, before he could even finish thinking about how the hell he was going to walk out of here and go face Eddie without wanting to curl up and hide under his desk, there came the sound of angry footsteps rapidly approaching the break room, quickly followed by an equally angry-sounding voice calling his name.
He lowered his hands from his face, and his bad morning became significantly worse when he saw his boss peeking into the break room, red-faced and looking just as angry as he sounded. “Tozier,” he snapped. “The hell are you doing? Your meeting with Mr. Gray starts now. Get your ass in there or you’re done here.”
Richie was surprised he was able to hold himself together enough to not tell his boss to fuck right off.
The meeting went horribly, but Richie didn’t care. He would definitely get written up for it, but so what? He might have just put his entire job on the line, but who fucking cared? Clearly not Richie, because all he could think about were the texts on his phone, the messages shared between him and Eddie during the night.
After he was dismissed from the clutches of the corporate meeting with a disappointed-sounding promise of ‘we’ll be in touch’ , Richie decided he needed to have an emergency meeting of his own. He marched back into the office, over to his cubicle, and with just a single look to the person at the desk beside his, Ben seemed to understand that something was wrong, and swiftly got up from his own desk and followed Richie into the break room.
“Richie?” he said nervously as he watched Richie pace around the room, passing his phone from one hand to the other. “What is it? Did the meeting with Mr. Gray really go that badly?”
“What? No- no, forget about that,” Richie told him, giving a wave of his hand as though to brush off Ben’s concern. “I have something more important going on.”
“More important than the meetings that literally determine the future of our careers here?”
“Yes.” Richie looked down at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the buttons to unlock it. A part of him was hesitant to show Ben the texts- after all, the way in which he finally confessed to Eddie wasn’t exactly one that Richie was proud of and was eager to show off. But, this was Ben. And Richie figured that if anyone would be able to help him get out of this, it would be Ben.
Richie unlocked his phone and handed it over to Ben. He watched his friend’s reaction, his eyes widening with surprise as he took in the words on the screen. Ben was silent for a minute, and Richie was beginning to wonder if he had sent him into shock, when Ben finally spoke up with a simple, “You’re right. This is far more important.”
Ben listened carefully as Richie recounted the story of his interaction with Eddie earlier that morning, sparing no detail. When he was finally done, Richie leaned back against the counter, admittedly feeling a little bit better about airing all that out. He waited as Ben thought for a moment, certain that he would come up with the perfect solution to make things right again.
Instead, Ben said something that did not help Richie’s situation in the slightest. “Interesting.”
Richie’s eyebrows pulled together, trying to understand Ben’s unexpected answer. “Interesting?” he repeated. “What about this is interesting to you? Did you not hear the part where I mentioned that this is driving me insane? Or the part where I maybe just completely fucked everything between Eddie and me up? That’s interesting? ”
Ben handed the phone back to Richie, and did not seem to be anywhere close to as concerned as Richie. In fact, as Richie looked a little bit closer, he realized that Ben was smiling. How could he be smiling at a time like this?!
“It’s interesting ,” Ben continued, “because while jumping straight to worrying about the worst-case scenario, you’ve overlooked something else kind of important.” He paused, as though he was waiting for Richie to figure it out himself or read his mind. But when Richie just continued to stare blankly back at him, Ben let out a gentle sigh. “Maybe Eddie doesn’t seem weirded out or feel awkward about your confession,” he said, slowly and softly, “because maybe he’s hoping that it’s true. Maybe… he feels the same way.”
Richie stared back at Ben like he was speaking a different language. He might as well have been, because as the words floated around Richie’s mind, he could not understand what Ben was saying. Eventually, all Richie could come back with was a flustered, “What?”
Ben raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, as though Richie was the one acting crazy. “Richie, come on,” he said. “Use that brain of yours for just a second, alright? Haven’t you ever noticed the way that Eddie acts around you compared to everyone else in the office?”
“The hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about all the times he tells people off for bothering him when he’s working, but he’ll let you stand at his desk and talk about very much non-work-related things for a half hour,” Ben told him. “I’m talking about every single time you’ve told him a joke, and even when he tells you that it wasn’t funny, he always smiles once you look away. I’m talking about how you are the only person in the office who gets away with calling him by something other than ‘Eddie’ or ‘Mr. Kaspbrak’.”
Richie felt his face heat up. His throat suddenly became very dry, and his tongue felt too big and awkward for his mouth. Ben’s words flew around his mind just as rapidly as the swarm of butterflies in his stomach, making it rather difficult for him to concentrate. “He hates it when I call him Eds,” Richie said eventually.
“Does he?” Ben argued, raising his eyebrows. “Because to me, it always seems like he’s put in a much better mood whenever you call him that. Actually, no- it always seems like his mood gets better whenever you make a stop by his desk, or bump into him in the break room, or offer to stay after hours to help him finish a task. And trust me, Rich, I’m not the first to notice, but it does seem like you’re the last.”
“What are you saying, Ben?” Richie asked, though he had a feeling that he knew exactly what Ben was suggesting.
“I’m saying… that maybe this little crush of yours isn’t as one-sided as you think.”
