Work Text:
Eddie Kaspbrak was not a romantic guy.
He never needed to be. He had dated exactly two people in his life, and he had put minimal effort into both relationships. His first girlfriend had been a friend he had met during one of his college classes, and the only fuel for dating her was the fact that his mother loathed her because of her ‘radical’ views. He may have forgotten most of his childhood by then, but the need to rebel still ran through his veins a few years after leaving Derry.
Sue had not been one to care about whether Eddie romanced her or not. She was wild and careless, and all she ever asked of him was that he was ready to bail her out of jail whenever she got arrested for whatever protest she had been in that week. Still, Eddie sometimes didn’t even meet that requirement, after all, he was arrested with her quite a few times. He liked her because she made him feel free from his mother’s grasp, and he never minded how people sometimes didn’t realize they were dating due to the lack of physical contact the two had. He never fell in love with her, but he was in college! He wasn’t supposed to, he was too young. All he had to do was to listen to Sue’s rants and enjoy the fact that despite being extremely irritated by his choice of partners, his mother could not say a word if she wanted to remain in his life.
Then he graduated.
And his mother got sick. For real this time.
So he got a job, moved out of the apartment he shared with Sue and two other friends, and right into the house Sonia had bought after she followed him to New York. He got a job at a company an older college friend of his had founded, and he stopped bailing Sue out and listening to her rants.
A few years later, when he could no longer take care of his mother on his own, he hired Myra. And a couple of years after that, he married her.
He didn’t have to try hard with Myra either. They were pushed together by his dying mother, who deemed her nurse as a fit replacement for when she was gone. Myra had accepted the role perfectly, having been the one to trigger every significant step in their ‘relationship’. She didn’t care about him being romantic either, as long as he pretended to be by getting her flowers every two months, so she could brag about how thoughtful he was, only to throw them out because “They mess with your allergies, Eddie Bear!”
So he wasn’t a romantic. He never needed to be. He never wanted to be.
Or that was what he thought.
Because suddenly, he was back in Derry, remembering the first eighteen years of his life. And suddenly, he was remembering Richie Tozier.
And suddenly he was remembering an Eddie who made mixtapes, and wrote secret love letters, and won stuffed bears at the carnival under the pretense of showing Richie he was “Actually stronger than you dipshit, just wait and see”, and bought Richie ice cream during summer, and snuck into his room at three A.M. so they could be there to comfort each other after the nightmares hit.
And suddenly he was recovering from a stab wound, going through a divorce and a move across the country to stay at Richie’s L.A. house for an indefinite amount of time.
Eddie had always been a romantic. Eddie had always wanted to be a romantic. It was just that the honor was reserved for a special man only. A man who wore thick glasses that made his beautiful blue eyes look huge, and who had a wide, bucked smile, and who was lanky yet built like a brick house at the same time, and whose high-pitched laugh would make Eddie’s entire day.
Because Eddie loved him. Eddie fucking loved Richie, and god, did that love moved him to be a sappy fuck.
He hadn’t told him though. He didn’t need to tell him. He didn’t want to tell him. Eddie lived his whole life being secretly in love with Richie Tozier, and he could keep doing so. At least for a little while. At least until he was healed, and his divorce was official, and he didn’t hear his mother’s and Myra’s voices spewing vile things about people like him. People like him and Richie. And Mike. And seemingly Bill too.
Because that had been a new development. Or an old one that he was just finding out about, thanks to Richie blurting it out as the losers sat around his hospital room, talking about the traumatic experience only the seven of them would ever understand.
“I’m gay.” He had said, his voice shaky and his eyes impossibly wider, like he had not meant to say it. “That’s what It used against me. That’s what everyone’s used against me.”
Eddie loved him so much that he suppressed his first instinct, which was to blurt out his own confession right that instant. He could tell that this was hard for him, and he did not want to steal the spotlight. He just sat there, processing as his friends swarmed Richie with hugs and reassurance. It wasn’t until the man was looking at him through his thick lenses, with that same terrified expression he had when he had just woken up from a nightmare, that Eddie used all of his strength to grab his hand and squeeze it, trying to show with that gesture that he loved him, and that didn’t change anything.
Mike had come out to them the next day, which resulted in Bill immediately calling his wife, and letting them know that not only was he bisexual, but he was getting a divorce. Always one to follow Bill’s lead, Eddie came out to them the next night and announced his very own divorce.
So suddenly he was sitting in Richie’s kitchen, which had become their kitchen, cutting an apple as he tried to ignore the fact that Richie was leaving for a month. Because of course the fucker had to have a burst of inspiration a few weeks after Derry, spent two days holed up in his office, and came out holding his laptop in the air declaring he had written his magnum opus. And of course, he had taken it to his much more supportive new manager, who had immediately started to plan a comeback tour. That he was leaving for now. For a month.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m old.” Richie groaned loudly behind him, startling him and leading him to cut his finger with the knife. He hissed at the pain, dropping both the utensil and the fruit, as drops of blood fell on the counter.
“Goddammit, Richie!”
“I’m sorry! I- I thought you had heard me coming.” He stuttered, letting go of his suitcases as he rushed to his aid. “I thought you heard me coming in, I swear.”
Richie took hold of his injured hand, causing Eddie to blush at the contact. He kept his sappy thoughts at bay, trying to focus on the cut and not on the fact that Richie’s hands were much bigger than his.
“Well I obviously didn’t, dipshit,” he muttered, as he assessed the damage. It wasn’t too deep, so all he had to do was clean it up and put on a bandaid. It would take no longer than a couple of minutes. Still, he pouted at the injury, not wanting to move away from his position yet.
“I’m so sorry, Eds” Richie whispered, lifting his gaze from their hands. Eddie followed and melted at the extremely guilty expression his friend wore. “It’s fine, Rich. It’s not that nasty.” He locked eyes with Richie and felt into the temptation to drown in his blue eyes. His eyes drifted among his face, enthralled by every crease, every slope, every mark that made him the man he was in love with. He ended up on his lips, staring at them a little too long before realizing what he was doing. He glanced back up only to find Richie with a panicked expression, one that resembled the one he had back in the hospital. Eddie’s frown came back in full swing, confused at what could be making his friend so agitated. Before he could ask him though, Richie’s phone started ringing, presumably his driver announcing himself.
“You have to go now, huh?” he said, gesturing at the ringing device. Richie nodded, the hesitation on his face causing a nervous chill to run through his back. They let go of each other, and Eddie walked to the sink to wash his wound as Richie moved towards his previously discarded luggage.
“Eds,” Richie said, interrupting Eddie’s attempt at a goodbye. “I- you’re my be- I lo-“ he stuttered, his voice catching at almost every word. He sighed in defeat, while Eddie panicked at the thought of what Richie had to say to him that was so hard to get out there. Without saying another word, Richie opened his travel backpack and pulled out a white envelope, which had Eddie’s name written on it. “For you. Read it when I’m gone. Very far. As far away as I can.”
Eddie looked at him with a puzzled expression, pulling out a surprised laugh from Richie as he handed him the letter. He nodded, putting the envelope carefully on the kitchen table, his heart beating in anticipation for Richie to get out of the house so he could understand why his best friend looked two seconds away from nervous vomiting all over their floor.
Not wanting him to be nauseous when he was about to get on a plane for over two hours, he decided to turn around Richie’s attention into something else. Which was why, without warning, he wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, not moving until he felt Richie slowly return the embrace. Richie furrowed his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, his grip mirroring the tightness of his own, and Eddie felt himself tear up when he heard Richie sniffle. The tour wasn’t going to be that long. Since he was still in the process of testing the waters after his rebranding, a month seemed good enough. But this would be the first time they had been apart for longer than a couple of days since Derry, and it was an understatement to say they had become slightly co-dependent. Regardless of whatever feelings Eddie harbored for Richie, he was not looking forward to being apart from his best friend, after having to endure two decades of separation.
The moment was broken once again by the ringing of Richie’s phone, his driver no doubt growing impatient. Reluctantly, they separated, giving each other teary smiles before Richie walked out of their home, both knowing that if they uttered a word they would break down crying in a way that would be embarrassing for both of them. Eddie merely hoped that his look got the message through Richie.
The door closed and Eddie let out a deep sigh. He wiped his face, already dreading the headache that was to come, and went back to cutting up his apple, needing a distraction from the lump in his throat and the heaviness he felt settle on his belly. He could call Bev later, hoping she would distract him from his first night without Richie, and he would bitch and moan about their strangely emotionally charged goodbye, but right now all he wanted to do was eat his damn snack.
He sat down at the kitchen table to eat, the silence becoming unnerving as the seconds go by. He wasn’t exactly used to quiet, from the loud soap operas his mother would watch, to the always full apartment he had with Sue, to the constant chatter of Myra on the phone with whatever friend she was bragging to that day, to Richie and his penchant for writing and testing bits out loud. The rare moments of solitude were always a source of an uncomfortable feeling. It seemed that he had to get used to it, especially since he would have a month of the independence he had always wished for when he was a child. Not that he didn’t have the option to live alone, but it had also been really fun to fulfill the fantasies he had made up with Richie when they were teenagers, of running away to LA and get an apartment together, while Richie pursued his comedy career, and he studied business so he could open his own car shop.
He was done eating after ten minutes, the crying headache having already settled, so he decided to do what he never did, which was to take a nap. He thought about continuing working on the car he had started to restore the week before, but he didn’t feel like he was in the right mindset to enjoy it.
He woke up two hours later, groggy and with the residues of an extremely sappy dream, which included Richie and the faint memory of a kissing bridge carving he always hoped was made by a certain trashmouth. He blinked until his world went into focus, and followed to check his phone, seeing a text from Richie letting him know he had finally boarded, and one from Ben, letting him know he had found the part for the car he had been looking for. He thanked Ben and was about to reply to Richie when he remembered that not only was he on a plane, but he left him something to read. He knew Richie told him to wait until he was far away, but he figured that what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Eddie walked to the kitchen, eyeing the envelope with caution. Now that he got to see it up close, he could see traces of Richie all over it. It was slightly crumpled in some of the edges, there were fingerprints the same color as his name, and its seal was crooked. Eddie smiles at the details, and at the implication of Richie taking the time to prepare it for him. He opened it delicately, pulling out a sheet of paper filled out to the brim, Richie’s messy handwriting giving him flashbacks to high school, when Richie would sneak into his room and would ‘tutor’ him, more like let him cheat off of him.
Dear Eds,
What’s up Spaghetti!
If you’re reading this that means I’m dead.
Oh, he was gonna punch him when he saw him again.
I’m kidding! Hopefully.
If you’re reading this it means I’m in New York. Which is the farthest from home I’ll be during the tour. If you’re reading this before that then you’re a fucking cheater Eds, and you should know that I’m shaking my head in disappointment at you.
Eddie laughed at Richie’s dramatics. He considered listening to his instructions, but that would include listening to Richie, and out of principle he only did it when he thought he was right. Which was more often than he was willing to admit.
Eds. Eddie spaghetti. Spagheddie.
I’m not going to lie to you, I’m stalling.
Which is dumb because this is a letter, and I can just not write the fact that I’m stalling. But every time I stop writing I lose my will to actually tell you what I need to tell you, so it’s more counterproductive to not tell you I’m stalling than it is to do it.
This is gonna be a long letter bud, be prepared for that.
Eddie rolled his eyes, but the endeared smile on his face was impossible to deny.
Eds my man, first I have to tell you that you’re my best friend. My BEST best friend. And I know we’re too old to say that we’re best friends, but you are so fuck the fact that we’re middle age. Also, I know I’m your best friend too :)
Now, I’m going to tell you a story of a kid who was cool as fuck, and had a best friend who was also cool but not as cool, of course.
This kid was a fucking nuance Eds. A fucking dipshit. A trashmouth, if you will.
But get this: his friend was as much, if not more of a dipshit than him. And this kid loved it.
He was the first to match him and surpass him. The kid would spew some bullshit and his friend would not only respond but would obliterate him. He had fire running through his veins, and he shone when he let himself go and was himself. So the kid took it as his purpose, to rile his friend up so he would always shine bright.
And one day, as his friend tore him a new one, the kid looked at him and thought for the first time “Holy shit, I’m in love with him”
Eddie’s heart dropped. His hands started shaking as he processed the words he had just read. Richie, his Richie Tozier, had been in love with him when they were kids. And now here he was, over two decades too late, pining for his best friend.
He started to question why Richie would tell him now, on a letter, while he was supposed to be thousands of miles away.
Did Richie figure out that Eddie was in love with him? Did he want to sympathize with him before letting him know that he was aware of his deepest secret? Was Richie uncomfortable with it? Did he want to kick him out? Oh god, what if he was getting kicked out?
It wasn’t until he came back to when he realized that he was definitely having a panic attack. He took his time trying to stabilize his breathing, and once he had a clearer mind he called Mike, who thankfully didn’t take long to answer.
“Hey, Eddie! What's up, man?”
“Did you know Richie was in love with me when we were kids?”
So much for subtlety.
There was a heavy silence on the other side of the line.
“H-how,”
“Michael! You knew ?”
“I am not confirming or denying anything!”
Eddie sighed, exasperatedly. “I can’t believe you never thought to tell me.” He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been telling you about how I feel for months!”
“Well! How did you find out?” Mike replied, avoiding the question. “ I’m not going to talk until you tell me how you know.”
“He wrote me a letter, alright?”
“Oh shit, I didn’t think he was actually gonna go through with it,” Mike said, although it seemed more to himself than to Eddie. “Wait! He’s not in New York yet! You broke the rules.”
“I wasn’t going to wait a month!”
“I’m shaking my head, Eddie. I need you to know that.”
“Richie said the same thing in this fucking letter.” He sighed. “Mike, I think he’s going to kick me out.”
“Um, no? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I think he’s trying to sympathize with me because he found out I’m in love with him and now he’s going to kick me out.”
“So you haven’t read the whole letter, huh?”
“I’m terrified, Mike. I can’t do it”
Mike had the audacity to fucking laugh. He guffawed, which was a word that Eddie never thought he would use but was adept at the loud laughs coming from his speaker. He was starting to feel bad like Mike was mocking him.
“Ok, you don’t have to make fun of me, dude.”
“Oh! Eddie, I’m not trying to make you feel bad!” Mike said, his tone now concerned. “But I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Finish reading the letter before jumping to conclusions.”
“Yeah, but what if you just tell me what you know because you definitely know something! How about you just do that.”
“Bye Eds! Read the letter.”
“Mike, I swear to g-”
‘CLICK’
Ah, Eddie loved his friends.
Resigned, he grabbed the letter once again, his gaze immediately going back to the point he left off. Regardless of what the rest of the letter said, he allowed himself a second to enjoy the fact that Richie felt so strongly for him once, smiling as he imagined how ecstatic his younger self would have been having he known the information. He also took a second to mourn what could have been.
What would have happened had they not lived in Derry? Had they grown up in a more open-minded environment? What if instead of a mother who ingrained fear of his sexuality so deep into his mind he internalized it and lived unhappily all throughout his adult life? Maybe he would’ve confessed to Richie, and they would’ve had a high school romance like the one he used to dream about. Maybe he would’ve gotten to love Richie out loud like he always wished for. Maybe he would’ve given Richie those mixtapes without having to lie about his motives, or the love letters he wrote wouldn’t have had to be secret, or he would’ve won stuffed bears at the carnival just because he wanted to win something for his boyfriend, or he would’ve bought Richie ice cream during summer without having to also buy ice cream for another loser so that it didn’t create suspicions, or he would’ve snuck into Richie’s room at three A.M. and he would’ve hugged him tight as he pressed a comforting kiss to his forehead and told him that everything would’ve been alright.
He wiped the tears that inadvertently fell from his eyes, cursing the magnified crying headache from before. With a deep breath, he continued reading.
The kid was very scared. More like the kid was terrified. See, he grew up in a shitty town, where boys who loved boys did not exist if you wanted to survive. So he bottled his feelings up, hoping his friend would never find out. That way, he would’ve stayed his friend.
But the kid’s love for his friend was so intense, ran so deeply from his core, so much so that he seemed to overflow with every smile or frown or laugh or word. He needed somewhere to put it when it became too much for him to bear.
So he walked to the kissing bridge, and like a very brave dumbass, he carved their initials on it. For some reason he didn’t get caught, which is great ‘cause not even a knife would’ve protected him from the beating that was sure to come.
He laughed, giddy like a teenager with a crush as his nap-induced fantasy became true.
But you see Eds, even as the years went by, the kid never shook off those feelings. In fact, as the years went by, when the kid and his friend went their own ways and their names flew away along with the memories, dormant and awaiting his friend’s return.
(That was poetic as fuck, I’m fucking proud of myself)
I’m sure you have figured it out by now, but just in case I guess I should say it clearly. I’m in love with you Eddie. Have been for my entire life. And I’m sorry if this ruins everything between us, but I had to tell you, at least once.
I don’t expect you to feel the same but I hope you know I mean it.
Love,
Richie.
Eddie was speechless. This whole time Richie had been as in love with him as he was, and he had not known. All this time he could’ve been with the love of his life and he had! not! know!
And Richie had wanted him to wait for a month.
Oh.
Richie had wanted him to wait for a month.
He had an idea of the why of the strange request, but it was still something Richie had wanted. Reading the letter so soon had already been a shit move. So Eddie had to wait at least a month to make a move. Good. His inner romantic was bursting at the seams, and he was already plotting a convoluted extra plan that he was sure Richie would love.
For now, all he could do was rest, pretend he hadn’t read the most important letter of his life, and organize a complicated plan that would knock Richie off his feet.
And with a month to plot, he was sure it would go perfectly.
It was not going perfectly. At all.
Richie's last show was in New York, and all the losers had planes to surprise him. His manager had got them all tickets in a section close enough to the states to have a good for you, but not close enough for Richie to see them. Then, at the end of the show, Eddie would sneak up on stage and confess his love for him. Was he terrified? Yes. Would it be worth it to see Richie flustered on stage? Absolutely.
That was the plan.
What was currently happening though was not that. Instead, from the moment he woke up, it seemed that everything that could go wrong was destined to go wrong.
Always prepared, like any self-respecting risk analyst, he had gotten a flight in the early morning, meant to land in New York around noon, leaving him plenty of time left to prepare anything for his big romantic gesture. But he had fallen asleep way too late into the night, consumed by nerves and anxiety, and had apparently been so tired that he missed all of his alarms. When he finally got up, ironically startled by a dream where he had missed his flight, he was well aware there was no way he could make it to the airport on time. The next flight was hours away, and he would get to New York with only a few hours to spare.
‘Well,’ he thought. ‘Nothing can be perfect. Something had to go wrong and this is it! from now on all surely must be smooth sailing.’
Oh, how naive he was.
The second flight got delayed, his hotel reservation had been miss-filed and was therefore nonexistent. The flowers he had the mind to pre-order were ruined by a fucking cliché of a car drenching him with filthy New York water, and to top it all off he had left his ticket in LA, and during the disastrous trip, his phone battery had died. When he got to the theater, 15 minutes late, he found himself unable to enter thanks to a well-meaning, but very irritating concession stand worker.
Eddie was exhausted.
He had spent an entire fucking month planning this big gesture. After years of struggling with a pent-up need to adore someone he had finally found an outlet, and with the man of his dreams no less! Richie deserved to be loved fiercely, to have it declared from rooftops.
He sat down on the edge of the alley that was outside the stage door of the theater, not even caring about the filthy New York floor, to wallow in his misery and wait for the show to be over. Time ticked by so slowly, letting him laugh at his miserable day. It seemed like something out of a horror movie.
Finally, 45 minutes later, the theater doors opened and the people started to leave. He got up quickly, rushing down to find his friends so he could complain about his shit show of a day. Soon enough, they all came out in the town, and Eddie was relieved when Bev made eye contact with him.
Until he was not.
She shoved the bouquet she was holding into Ben’s hands and went straight into him, tackling him to the ground.
“Beverly! What the fuck!”
“You fucking coward shit! Why the hell did you back out? We waited for you to show up! And nothing! Not even a fucking text!” she exclaimed, as she smacked his arms repeatedly.
“It’s complicated, alright?”
“You’ve been planning this for a month! All for what? To back out at the last second? You’re better than this!“
“Beverly, get off him!“ Stan hissed. “You’re making a scene.”
“Shut up, Stan! That’s not important right now.”
“Um? Yes, it is? You’re going to get arrested.”
“Stan, this is New York. No one gives a shit.“
“She’s right,” Eddie added, his voice unusually quiet from the hold Beverly had him in.
Stan looked around to see that, effectively, no one cared that famed fashion designer, Beverly Marsh, was harassing a random man in the middle of the street.
“Beverly! Can you listen to me now?” Eddie begged, tired and done with her interrogation.
“Fine. You have one minute.”
She got off him and reluctantly helped him up. Eddie looked sadly at the crumpled bouquet and mournfully threw them into a nearby trash can. Dejected, he told them all about the travesty he went through to get there, earning sympathy and a few unwanted laughs from his friends.
“And now, I have no clue what to do! Not even my dumb flowers survived the trip.“ Bill patted his shoulder in sympathy, breaking him out of his view of the floor. He looked up to face the beautiful bouquet Bev was once again holding, and he frowned as he wished he had brought a backup.
“Look, let’s just wait for Richie to come out, all right?” Ben piped up. “You don’t need to make a whole spectacle. He’ll be happy just to hear you love him back.“
“He’s right, Eddie,” Mike added. “Rich will be ecstatic just to know you feel the same way. You don’t need anything else.”
His friends’ words reassured him. Sure, he had wanted to romance Richie, but they had the rest of their lives for him to do so. He decided to take his time to catch up with everyone. He had only seen Bill, who also lived in LA, and Bev briefly when she had visited for a work thing, in the last couple of weeks. And although they talked on the phone almost every day, it didn’t compare to seeing them in person.
Ten minutes went by, and Eddie started to get antsy again. Richie had not come out, and he hadn’t said anything to Bev, who was the only one he was aware was in the city, about what he was doing. She noticed his moping and questioned him with a simple, yet straightforward look. Eddie couldn’t take it any longer.
“Bev, give me your flowers.“
“What? No!”
“Beverly! Give them to me, please!“
“Fuck no! I got them for a Richie myself, it’s not my fault you got dumb, worthless flowers.”
“Fine! I’ll buy them from you then.”
“No.”
“BEVERLY!”
“Stop behaving like children!“ Stan exclaimed, clearly exasperated by their bickering. “Eddie, for the 10th time, you don’t need the fucking flowers.”
“But I do! I need to at least give Richie a fucking bouquet when I tell him I am in love with him!“
“You’re in love with me?”
Eddie fucking froze.
No one dared to say anything. The atmosphere was surprisingly quiet for a New York City alley. Eddie made eye contact with Beverly once again, and she silently handed him the bouquet. He would be laughing if he were not mortified by what had just happened.
“Richie! You were amazing, man! We’re all so proud of you.” Bill said, clapping his back. “We’ll meet you guys tomorrow for breakfast, all right? Again, you were great, Rich!”
Everyone took the hint in their unspoken leader’s words and proceeded to give them half-hearted goodbyes before walking away. Soon enough, the pair stood alone, tension dripping from their orbit.
“So, you read the letter,” Richie said, his voice soft and shaky in a way Eddie had heard only a handful of times before. He nodded in response before shoving Beverly’s bouquet into his friend’s hands.
“For you.” He managed to say.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence again.
“Eddie, I-“
“This wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
Eddie sighed when their words were cut short thanks to their synchrony. He waited a couple of seconds to see if Richie would speak again. When he didn’t, Eddie continued. “ I had this whole thing planned, right? I was going to surprise you on the show, and I was going to get up on stage, even though I hate attention, Richie! I hate it so much, and I was going to tell you how I felt in front of the whole theater and it was going to be perfect and you were going to be embarrassed and hopefully happy as well, but then I missed my first flight and the second one was delayed and my reservation was gone and some fucking dipshit drenched me and ruined the flowers that I got you!” A breath. “And I lost my ticket and the fucking teenager at the concession stand wouldn’t let me in and my phone died and I had to wait for the show to be over and then Beverly tackled me because she thought I was backing out, even though I wasn’t, I swear I wasn’t.” Another breath. “There are just so many things that happened, and I am so frustrated because I love you so much and I want you to be loved out loud because you deserve it, Richie! You have to understand that you deserve someone who would love you loudly, just like you do, and I am tired and dirty, and I did not mean to tell you that I’ve been in love with you since freshman year in a filthy New York Alley, but here we are! I guess.” he took another deep breath, and he was about to continue, had he not been interrupted by Richie’s laugh.
Normally, he would be terrified at hearing anyone laugh during a love confession. But Richie’s laugh was his favorite sound in the entire world, and when he took the time to analyze his expression, it was full of joy and happiness like he had always hoped to incite in the man who loved more than anything in the world. It was infectious, and he couldn’t help but join him, laughing at the absurdity of the situation.
After a few minutes, they stopped. Richie wiped a couple of tears from his face before smiling fondly at Eddie. “That was the most thoughtful and romantic thing anyone has ever failed to do for me.” He said, a blush spreading through his face. He played shyly with one of the flower petals, and Eddie wished his phone had any charge, just so he could capture the beauty of the scene in front of him. “So, you love me?”
“I do,” Eddie replied, breathless. “Do you love me?”
“I do!” Richie exclaimed, giddiness flowing from him. “I love you so much it’s insane dude.”
“Well, good.”
“Good!”
They smiled at each other, not a care in the world. The two men could stand there forever, staring at each other with an adoration that they had been forced to repress throughout their lives. Not anymore, though. Now they could let it run freely, just as it was always meant to.
“Let’s go get dinner,” Eddie said, breaking out of their trance. “I’m sure we can still make our dinner reservations.” He held out his arm, and Richie happily took it.
“Oh, are you romancing me, sir?” Richie asked.
“You fucking bet I am,” Eddie said, puffing out his chest. “I’m going to woo the hell out of you, Tozier.”
“Can’t wait, Eds.”
Eddie took Richie’s hand and kissed the back of it. Never had he seen his friend blush so hard. It was a sight he was sure he wanted to see every day of his life.
“Me either, Rich.”