Chapter 2: part 3

There he was, haystack. The sweetest most gentle soul Richie was lucky enough to know. He currently was trying to beat Bill at paper-foot-ball, and was losing at a harsh eight to two.

Behind them, was Stan, trying to coax Eddie into helping him with making the pancakes.

And Richie sat happily with Bev and Mike, laying on the couch, eating popcorn and watching the boys make a mess.

Richie kept his eyes glued onto Eddie, felt his chest swirl with excitement when Eddie would laugh, or smile. Anything, anything, Richie would give anything, to make sure that's all Eddie would have to feel. Happy.

It was, so natural, and safe and fun—

"Whatcha up to Richie?" A voice with the tone of a sneer drum pierces through the air, the room fell pitch black, it became a never ending void of darkness, of which he was engulfed. Suddenly Richie was alone. But he wasn't. All his friends, were in front of him, lined up side by side, staring at him with soulless eyes.

"What the fuck!?" Richie screeched, and panted, scrambling in the darkness trying to grasp reality. It all felt so empty, and his ears popped from the pressure, they rung so loud he felt like vomiting.

"Poor poor Richie Tozier. Pathetic boy." The voice snarled and a sickly beast crawled up, from behind his friends, ripping off Eddie's head, blood gushed out from his neck, and Richie screamed out. "No!" Or at least he tried. His voice couldn't work over the broken sob that ripped from his chest.

"You're pathetic, Richie, you know that? Greedy, greedy humans, so infected by greed. You want touch, so desperately don't you? Oh but it's filthy, dirty touch you want. You want men don't you?" It hissed, and Richie struggled to keep the screaming tears from dripping onto his shirt.

The creature eyed Richie, a huge grin stretching over its pale disfigured face, it licked it's lips and teeth the size of knife blades bared behind it's smile. It grabbed Stan and bit him in half, throwing the bottom half of Stan's corps at Richie.

"You've been here for a while now haven't you Richie?" It laughed, high strung and spiteful.

"Wake up." "Wake up." "Wake up." The voice rang around the room in a dizzying spiral.

"Better wake up before you forget how to."

"OH FUCK—" Richie shot up from his bed, sweat lining his body, soaking the sheets. His back was covered in the sweat, and his throat felt tight. He struggled to breath, trying to process the nightmare.

For a second, he remembers some of the details, but they fade away the longer he is awake. He pants, feeling his hands shake. Fuck, he hated these nights. Waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing millions of miles an hour. Only to loose the grasp of what the nightmare had even been about once he awoke.

But, there was this, weird voice in the back of his head reminding him. Eddie Kaspbrak.

Right. The guy from the party. Richie, will definitely work on that first.
_____________

Richie learned a few things, while he got older.

People, can make or break you. They can bring so much happiness and relief to your life, or be the source of your problems. For a while, that person was Lily. She meant everything to him. And after she cheated, it meant everything he ever thought of was drenched in the memory of her betrayal. For a few months Richie was pretty fucked up over it. But he learned to move on over the years.

Each experience we learn from, makes us stronger. Each person who passes us in life, is like a ripple in our lake. But as you grow older and the years grow shorter, we learn our lake is actually an ocean, and that the waves we make ourselves, are stronger then the ripples left behind by others.

So why is it, Eddie seems to be such a fucking hurricane in the sea of Richie's life.

"Thanks ma." Richie mumbles into the phone, trying to get the burnt pancake off his skillet top. Fuck, ruined another one. He puts the tea kettle on the back burner, not for tea, but for hot water, he needed to clean out his bongs later.

He presses the phone between his shoulder and his ear, trying to scrape off the charred batter from his new, supposedly non-stick pan. He has his cigarette balancing between his lips, trying to hold it between his teeth and talk at the same time. What can he say, he's the disaster kind of multitasking.

Another month, another check Richie's mother sends. He will give that to her, it's been years and she hasn't missed a single payment, no matter how successful he gets, she still insists on giving him 'a little extra spending money.'

"I want you to go shopping honey." She suggests again, as Richie finally flips a semi-decent pancake. "Get something nice, if you are meeting an old friend—"

"Mom I'm pretty positive we never knew each other back then. I just used it as a excuse to get his number." He admits, and he can almost hear his mother roll her eyes.

"Even so, there's a chance. I don't have much of a memory of when you were a kid. I guess I was working so much, but I knew you did have a few friends." She offers, and Richie instinctively looks down at his wrist. Right.

"So the yearbook should be here when?" He asks, placing his plate of late breakfast on his folding dining table. The apartment wasn't small. Definitely better then any place he's ever lived in, even as a kid. There was a pool the apartment tenants could share downstairs, and a gym. Richie lived in a one room, but there was still enough room for all his pointless posters, comic books, and guitars. What can he say? Still a kid at heart. He'd go to the thrift store frequently, which meant he had a cool collection of vinyls, skate boards, and a random statue of a bear holding a jar of gum in the corner of the room. The fake plant his manager gave him as a house warming gift, and a pretty decent TV. But his pride and joy. He got a classic PAC MAN arcade unit, off of some dude at a garage sell, for 60 bucks.

Something about the big hunk of metal in the middle of his living room, made him feel so happy. And it even worked too. He kept quarters next to the joy sticks so he could play whenever he felt like it.

"Well I sent it over three days ago, so maybe today hun." Right. Three days ago Richie met Eddie, and ever since then, all he could fucking think about was that man.

Eddie.. Eddie Eddie— spaghetti?

The tea kettle screams, it cracks through the room like a glass shattering shriek and Richie jumps, being taken out of his thoughts, moving to turn off the heat.

"Cool. Thanks ma." Richie says again, and moves to hang up but pauses for a moment, looking down at the receiver. "Oh and ma."

"Yeah Rich?"

"Feel free to visit anytime."

He knows she smiles, because when she says, "alright." It sounds joyful.
_______________

Like always the mail man didn't knock- didn't even ring the bell, just left the package in front of the door, for however long it's been there. What if someone stole it? Well okay, no one would want a old moldy high school yearbook. But that's no matter, Richie checked his front door every 20 minutes anyway, too excited for the damn thing to show up. So it mustn't have been too long.

He props himself up on his sofa, feeling the cushions collapse under his weight, it's an old piece of shit but getting a new one would be far too much work. He idly began flipping through the book for the next few hours. He doesn't even notice he wasted so much time looking at all the photos until he peers down to his watch. Though he was too enraptured by the mere idea of reliving any memories, if he could just get his brain to work. Every once in a while he'd see someone he really recognized, but couldn't understand why. Something about them, either their name or face sparked the wheels in his head to turn, but they'd always get stuck, cobwebs got in the way. Was he friends with some of these people? Or maybe some of them were bullies, or just classmates.

His eyes land on Bill Denbrough. He was just a few pages in, and something about the kid made him stare. He just didn't understand why. The happy smile on his lips, it soothes Richie. And he leaves a book mark on that page, so he could look back on it later.

He hops up and pours himself a drink, just some whisky, make the time pass by smoother.

The point of this wasn't to reminisce on things he couldn't remember, anyway. After asking his mom to send this him it, he figured it was a waste of time. He was pretty sure Eddie wouldn't be anywhere in the book, he just needed an excuse to get his phone number.

But to his surprise, after flipping through a few more pages of faked smiles, and awkward pained expressions, he paused, there it was.

Your's truly, Eddie Kasbrak, heart. Right underneath his yearbook photo.

He wrote a heart next to his name. Huh.

The tiny Eddie actually genuinely smiling back at him from the page, makes tiny hurricanes swirl in his gut.

So they DID know each other, enough so that Eddie signed his yearbook with 'your's truly' and a tiny, heart, that made Richie feel like he was dying. Fuck he suddenly was having the worse headache he couldn't even focus on the book in front of him, it was all blurry.

He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes, and with the other hand reached out to grab his whisky, and pound it down in one go. It burned going down, a distinct bitter taste calmed his nerves, the pain settled him into reality.

He rubbed his temples, eyes flicking to the book and then back down to his wrist. The lucky seven.

He grabs the book and flips it to the back, and scattered across the pages, were 6 other people's signatures. He couldn't make out every single one of the names. But one stuck out to him, Beverly Marsh, written in pink, it was in cute cursive. Something about that made him want to vomit.

'I miss her.'

Richie decides in that moment, to finally call Eddie.
________________

It was a long, awkward conversation, mainly consisting of Richie making stupid jokes, poorly attempting to flirt with the man, and Eddie's confusion, babbling about the inconsistencies in Richie's story.

"I'll prove it to you, I'll bring you the year book; you'll see if it's your handwriting or not." He offered as a Hail Mary, and it was a cumbersome task but after a little bit more nudging, Eddie agreed.

But now, it's lead him here.

Richie stands awkwardly at the front door of the house shared by Eddie and his Fiancé. It's an actual house, not an apartment like Richie has, it's a commitment. The frame of the brown door is painted white, it's chipping at the edges, and you can see they tried painting over it again and again. Richie wonders how long they've been living together. He hates the fact that he can see white curtains hung up along the windowsills— it makes everything too homey, too domesticated, too happy. It's like both standing at the threshold of the enemy, whilst trying to save the prince, trapped in the tower. He supposes that makes Eddie's fiancé, the dragon.

And in that moment, after having idiotically already knocked on the door, he thinks maybe he should stop pursuing Eddie, that he should leave and never come back. He didn't want to be the home wrecker. He didn't want to be the reason those curtains would have to come down. He didn't want to be the man Lily cheated on him with.

But he doesn't move, his feet won't let him, and when Eddie swings open the door, Richie gets this nostalgic déjà vu moment, watching Eddie's eyes fall onto Richie. He feels like wax amongst a flame, melting slowly, then all at once. Eddie, was just as breath taking as before, just, now Richie could fully admire it.

Richie suddenly realized why he so desperately wants to be with this guy. The moment Richie met him at that party, he knew their souls were intertwined. And fuck it if Richie wasn't going to chase after that.

He's enthralling, dominating, and profound all in one swell swoop of his chestnut gaze. Fuck Richie wants to drink Eddie's aura, and get drunk off the sweet taste of him. He smells so much like what goodness smells like. It's ardent, a intense consumption lavender body wash, rubbing alcohol, and a excessive amount of hand sanitizer. It's comforting. Like home. It's so familiar. And he begins to worry.

No, don't be that guy. Just— just, be Eddie's friend. He can do that right? Plus there's not wrong with being his friend. He can reconnect with the guy, be two buddies who used to be friends in high school, who are just looking through some old shit from the good ol' days.
Yeah that's fine, and perfectly platonic.

"Hey." Eddie says and Richie almost completely drops his convictions and kisses the guy. Jesus calm the fuck down Tozier, all he said was hey. Keep your dick in your pants.

'Heh, you? Self control?' That damn voice is back, mocking him.

"Hey." Richie replies, focusing on his poster. Does his hair look nice? Did he make sure to shower? Yes actually he showered twice before coming here. Did he have something in his teeth? Why was his hands suddenly so sweaty. Oh my god did he look like an absolute idiot right now fidgeting in front of the door?

"Come on in." Eddie beckons ending Richies misery, and in that moment he melts into the welcome mat below his feet when Eddie sends him a reassuring smile. Oh he's fucked.
________________

Richie meets Myra, she is, well surprisingly sweet. And it's fucking pissing him off how kind she was. Eddie had went to his (and Myra's) bedroom to look for his old yearbook, and Myra sat next to Richie at the dining room table. It was a nice deep red color. But the rest of the house seemed kind of empty. No photos, no decorations, just the necessities. He so badly wants her to be a bad person, so he can hate her and justify doing this, being here to swoon her fiancé but life isn't fair like that.

They look through the yearbook together, and she comments on how cute Eddie used to be as a kid. Richie can't help but laugh and agree. Though he thinks Eddie is still rather cute.

It was rather pleasant being around Myra, and Eddie was a rather pleasant person as well. That's why it is so fucking confusing to Richie, that when Eddie finally returned, the two almost immediately started arguing with each other. About the most mundane things too. The contretemps continues, and Richie feels rather put in a rather vexatious position sitting between this disharmony.

It doesn't take much long to realize that—
Obviously, those two aren't meant for each other. But it is neither more so one or the others fault. They just don't mend well, Myra needs to feel needed too much, and Eddie needs to be dotted on like a child. But. When they are apart, they are both, sensible, independent people.

It wasn't that Eddie was terrible to Myra, or that Myra was terrible to Eddie. They were just terrible together.

What about being together, brings out the worst in both of them?

Myra excused herself after a while, leaving to the bedroom to collect herself, she had tears in her eyes, and Richie avoids eye contact the best he can. Jesus that was awkward.

Eddie turns to Richie with apologetic eyes, it seems they don't get much guests and Richie wonders how he found himself in such a relationship like this? It was rather shocking watching Eddie get so high tempered and annoyed, and watch the sweet woman become weepy and upset. Yet somehow Richie didn't find himself any less attracted to the man. Even after that shit show of a display.

Richie was pretty sure, it's probably cause he had some lingering daddy issues but that not the point-

"Show me around." Richie offers to try and save the evening, and Eddie seems to appreciate it. He sends Richie this smile, one that crooks at the side of his mouth, it sends adulation straight down to the center of Richie's core, and he swears he knew how to breath just a moment before. They both look around Eddie's house, it smells of bleach and potpourri— once again, his assessment of it being rather empty was true. There wasn't even clocks on the walls, or really a coffee table. He supposes they don't spend much time together in the house. Though there was at least one book shelf with a few books scattered about, Richie approaches it, noticing Eddie had a lot of books written by William Denbrough.

Oh shit.

Ding ding. You shit head, déjà—FUCKING-vu.

"Hey uh- Eds." Richie begins, touching the binding of one of the books. Instantly the man scolds him, face scrunching up unpleasantly "don't call me that, that isn't my name." He says annoyed, and Richie's heart flutters down into his gut, taking a fucking nose dive into his stomach acid. He felt like he might both vomit, and or fall in love. So, basically gross.

"Why do you have so many books by this guy? You like horror?" He asked, trying to test out his theory. Well it isn't really a theory, because that would mean there was rhyme or reason to any of this. He remembers. Bill Denbrough. From the yearbook, why did he recognize him? Maybe Richie had read one of his books. Though Richie isn't much of the reading type.

Eddie peers over Richie's shoulder, at the books in question, and scratches the side of his face in thought. "No, actually I don't really like horror all that much. I just kind of bought them on impulse." He says slowly, like he didn't understand why either.

"Why?" Richie turns to the man, feeling his breath escape him at the sudden closeness. Eddie was so much shorter then him, maybe a whole foot, but he had these eyes— it was like he owned the world, like he was first and foremost, the one and only. Richie wished he had that confidence.

"I guess- something about the books were familiar." Eddie says, and it throws Richie for a loop. Like puzzle pieces where coming together, building— something. He just, he still didn't have the whole picture. It was distorted and confusing.

Richie tells himself to control his emotions. Don't have a damn panic attack in this dude's house. You already look like a maniac as it is.

Eddie leads him back around to the dining room, so they could actually do what they were meant to do in the first place. Eddie makes them both cups of tea, and Richie happily nurses the drink. He hates tea but he needed to do something with his hands. And to his surprise Eddie makes the tea deadly sweet, just the way Richie likes it.

They sit next to each other as Richie flips through his book, and finds the page, 'your's truly. Eddie kaspbrak. Heart'

Eddie stares at the page, and he quiets down, brows twitching in thought at the writing. He scoots closer to Richie to inspect the words, reaching out the touch the page, like it might take him back in time. Eddie settles right to Richie's left side, his body inches away, and Richie gets a whiff of his cologne. Wow he smells goo—

Wait-? He wasn't wearing cologne when Richie first showed up— no he— did he.. put on some cologne while he was looking for his yearbook?

What did that mean.

Richie ignores that information, and picks up Eddie's yearbook instead. Anything to avoid thinking about the way it made his heart race. The book was in far better condition, the edges were crisp and well kept. Richie opens it up and searches for the page with his photo. There he was, in all his glory, bulky coke bottle glasses and messy hair. But there was nothing sighed under it.

Huh. Maybe Richie didn't sign people's books? But now that he was flipping through the pages, he noticed that there were NO signatures in Eddie's year book at all.

"Uh. Did, no one sign yours?" Richie questions, looking at the unmarked pages, and Eddie's head snaps up to look at Richie. God why are his eyes so pretty? "Oh, yeah, I think I didn't want anyone to sign it cause my mom wanted it to 'not get ruined' or something. But look here—"

He reached over Richie's arm, flipping the book to the back page, and once again no signatures, but there was a piece of notebook paper folded up and shoved into the crease of the book. Richie picked it up, opening up the page to see multiple signatures scattered about the paper.

Quickly he grabbed his own yearbook from Eddie's hands and flipped the book open to the back, exposing the multiple signatures scattered about. His eyes flicked back and forth between both pages, and began noticing a lot of the signatures and notes where made by the exact same people.

Beverly, Mike, Ben, Bill, Stan... who were these people and why did they all sign both of their yearbooks? Why were they the ONLY people who signed their yearbooks?

Then Richie's eyes flicked down to his own handwriting, right smack in the middle, big obnoxious letters. 'I love you Eddie Spaghetti!!'

Richie choked on his tea.

Spaghetti.

Richie feels the room spin, it's closing in on him, harsh and throbbing pains spike through his skull and he tries to hold onto any last semblance of sanity.

I love you.

Well. That wasn't as subtle as 'Your's truly, heart' now was it?

He let his eyes move over to Eddie, who was still inspecting the pages. His eyes trace the indents of the words, like he was still grasping the meaning, and then he spoke, soft and under his breath,"Huh."

—and really?? That's it?? Huh?

"Yeah." Richie replies and okay, that was just as pathetic. And for a while they both don't say anything. They just stare at the pages, trying to decipher what it all meant. Perhaps they liked joking around like that as kids? That was a reasonable explanation. But Richie has a feeling that wasn't the case, and that Eddie realized that as well.

Still. At the end of the day Richie has to except he is pursuing an engaged man, how could he live with himself if Eddie cheated on a woman who doesn't deserve it?

Richie tells himself to control his want. To take this information with a grain of salt. Wiping the words from his memory, they weren't important anymore.

Eddie then begins speaking, unprompted, and it surprises Richie, takes him off guard as that same soft voice breathed out, "I've never much had control over my life." He admits, pressing his fingers to the pages of the books, like trying to regain his youth, to hold onto the string of independence and Richie stares, not knowing if he should say anything or not. "it's suffocating. Really. My mom chose who I was going to marry, how i was going to dress, live my life, where I'd live, and how I'd live it. But-" he slowly closed both yearbooks, turning to look at Richie, his eyes were like pits that Richie could just fall into, lost and hopeful at the same time, "to know that I broke those rules as a kid. That I was my own person and I did as I pleased. That makes me happy to know I wasn't always so pathetic." His voice was soft, broken. Quickly, almost instinctively Richie reaches out to cup his cheek.

"Hey. No, don't-" he pulls his hand away, like he had just touched fire, realizing he shouldn't have done that, but Eddie's eyes shine with, comfort. He was okay with Richie's touch. So he reaches back out, this time to take Eddie's hand.

So they used to be lovers. That's at least what they both assumed. It made sense why Richie was so attracted to him, was so drawn to his familiarity. It just didn't make sense why neither of them remembered something like that but.

So, they were, something. Well they at least, used to be. And Eddie gives him this look, his eyes scan the curves and dips of Richie's face, his eyes, his lips, down his shoulders and he hums. He finally gave himself the chance to check out Richie without shame, and Richie felt his cheeks flush red.

"Well." Eddie began with an amused smile, "at least I had some taste."

Richie snorts, his head falling back in a soft laugh, "oh you flatter me." He grins when he meets the other man's eyes again, "you're not so bad yourself hot stuff."

Eddie actually cackles, and pride swells in Richie's chest. HE did that. He made him laugh. Fuck, and for some reason that's all he wanted to do. To see that again, to see him smile.

And just as quickly as that smile appears on his features, they disappear. Oh. Right. Even if they are high school sweethearts, that doesn't change anything about their current lives.

Eddie was engaged, engaged. That's something you can't, just call off on a whim because of what? Your ex, mind you that, you don't even remember- suddenly bumps into you at a office party? That's not an excuse. That's nothing compared to living in a house together. That's nothing compared to the commitment of a relationship. Not just some high school fling. Not something so unimportant you both don't even remember a single detail about it.

"Friends?" Richie asks, offering his hand to Eddie's, and the man eyes him like he just lost his mind, but another, god, breath taking smile takes a hold of his lips, and he takes Richie's hand slowly. "Friends."

"Stay for dinner." He continued after a little bit of reminiscing. And Richie can't help but agree. Anything for him. Eddie could ask him to walk off a cliff, and Richie would do it with his eyes wide open.
__________________

Myra, lucky enough, had to leave that night, she was going to see her friends at a baby shower. Before she leaves however, she insists Eddie kisses her as she waits by the front door. Eddie's shoulders seem so stiff, but he listens to the woman easily. Richie looks away purposely, focusing on chopping the onion in front of him. It makes his eyes water slightly.

What does?

The onion of course.

"And I thought you were a handful?" Eddie jokes, sliding back in place next to Richie once the front door shut closed. He grabs a knife and another chopping block, peering over Richie's shoulder to see his progress. He then dices up some bell peppers, about ten times quicker then Richie is his own task, and the man stares. "Show off." He jabs, moving to wash his hands and Eddie chuckles, using the knife to slide the peppers into an oiled pan. "What can I say. I'm a man of many talents."

"Oh? Tell me Edwardo, what else can you do Mr. talented?" Richie challenges, pulling his body up onto the kitchen Island. Obviously Eddie reprimands him for it, but Richie remains seated, much to Eddie's dismay.

"I'm good at not being an ASSHOLE." He says pointedly, cocking a hip to the side and glaring at Richie, happily sitting on the marble countertop in the center of the kitchen. The glare just makes Richie's cheeky smile widen.

"Oh common, I bet as a kid you were a real ass." Richie jokes, and Eddie pauses for a moment, lost in thought, before continuing to cook. Richie stares at the back of his head with questioning gaze. "What?" He asked, and Eddie just shrugs. But there was obviously something on his mind.

"Eds-"

Eddie audibly sighs, "I just don't really remember my childhood really." He says deflated, and Richie purses his lips.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I don't remember mine either." He replies, and Eddie lets his eyes move away from the food for a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah." Richie says easily, eyes lingering up at the ceiling. "I'm trying to remember it actually. Been for a while. You're- well, you are the first person, or thing from my past I've had much interaction with. It's just, I'm kind of sad even after talking to you, and realizing what we used to be. Why haven't my memories come back?" Was he doomed to be a amnesiac?

"That's funny because. I don't. Well I don't remember anything very much involving Derry." He offered as well, and Richie finally let his eyes fall onto him. He was smiling up at Richie, and it confused him. Why was he smiling? Neither of them remembered their childhood. That's a sad thing.

"Well. What do you remember?" Richie really just asked as an excuse to learn more about him. But Eddie didn't seem to mind, turning back around the stir the food.

"Well. I remember, after leaving Derry, College, mainly. Most of my classes and studies revolves around risk and health. It was boring really but, hey it was something I knew a lot about already, something I was good at. I did do track though, I don't know why but I just wanted to run, it was MY version of rebellion." He laughs softly, like he was lame because of it, but it just made Richie admire him more, and his leeeegs, wowza no wonder they looked so nice, "I have a few trophy's in my room, nothing too crazy, I usually got second or third place." He flipped the chicken in the pan, searing the side of it to a nice deep brown.

"I remember my mom dying." He says somber after a moment, he was sad about her death honestly, Richie can hear it in his voice but something about his posture told Richie that he also grew stronger from the experience, that he didn't let it weight him down, he was strong, brave even, "quit track, I had to focus on my studies, and-  well I did explore my sexuality a little bit at that time. Just a few guys is all." Richies ears perked up at that. Wow he would have taken Eddie as a closet case. But, you know what they say about college.

What? What the fuck do they say about college Richie?

Uh i don't know. What happens in college stays in college?

That's Vegas dumb ass.

Oh, right.

Eddie continues speaking, and Richie is pulled out of thought, god he was crazy if nothing else if all he did was have argument with HIMSELF all the time in his head. "I was working as a manager for the general public committee at a a grocery store, and part time school nurse assistant." Eddie adds on at the end, and Richie can't help but make fun of it, "oh a nurse huh?" He teased and he can see Eddie roll his eyes but he has this cute grin on his lips that eggs Richie one more. "haha I know, real funny." He pokes back sarcastically.

"Did you wear one of those cute nurse outfits, mini skirt included?" Richie tries, finally hopping down from the counter to see how far Eddie has gotten with the meal, and mainly just to get closer to him.

Eddie snorts, reaching out to smack the back of Richie's head, and the man pouts at him in turn, a shit eating grin replacing the pout after Eddie glares at him. He knows, they haven't technically really spent much time together that he is aware of. But it felt so natural interacting with him, cracking jokes, being near him. Like they had been friends for as long as he remembers, even though he doesn't remember. He felt safe, he felt happy, he felt at home. It was so foreign yet felt so familiar all at once.

"Would you be aposed to wearing one? You know, a skirt?" Richie flirted, bold of him, but he couldn't help himself, placing a hand on Eddie's waist like he was measuring to see what the right size might be.

Eddie glared again, hot and feisty, "short answer? No." He said like it was set in stone.

Richie leaned forward into his space, grinning, "what's the long answer?" He drew out his word, especially the draw of 'looong', wiggling his eyebrows.

"What is wrong with you?" Eddie asked without any heat, causing Richies lips to twitch with amusement. It's been so long since he's found someone who was so fun to tease, the way Eddie's cheeks flush a bright pink and his voice gets higher with embarrassment.

"Shut up, I am perfection incarnate." Richie batted his eyelashes, sweeping non-existent long beautiful locks of hair behind his shoulder.

"Perfectly annoying." Eddie grumbles under his breath, giving Richie a oh-so-cute scowl.

"Awe you think I'm perfect?" Richie teased further.

"Oh yeah definitely." Eddie began, stepping closer to him, pressing a finger to his chest, "you're face being one of the perks." He said with a sly smirk.

Richie raised an eyebrow, actually surprised, "reall—..?"

"Perfect to punch." Eddie interrupted him, with a dark growl, looking like at any moment he might pop richies head off his body, and throw it out a window.

Richie grinned at this, "who knows? Maybe that's a kink of mine." He replied, swaying his hips back and forth like a supermodel, though he did it terribly.

Eddie groaned, annoyed with Richie, moving away to grab some plates.

Aw yes, food is done. And honestly it smelt rather amazing. He followed after Eddie, as he set up the table.

"You're insufferable and have an ego the size of-" Eddie began.

"Oh let's not get into size comparisons," he said lewdly, a wild grin on his face, and he could not hold back the laugh that rumbled through his body when Eddie gasped, swatting his chest, but not very hard, he was blushing and Richie felt victorious.

Richie stopped flirting for long enough for them to actually start eating, sitting next to each other like before, Richie rests his chin on his hand, looking over at the pretty man. He had a napkin in his lap and everything all proper like. Could he get any cuter?

"So whatcha do now? You know what I do obviously." Since they literally met at one of Richie's gigs. Eddie wipes his mouth with a napkin, setting it down to speak to Richie.  "Right now, working for corporate company, risk annalasiz. Stocks, insurance stuff like that." He said easily, and Richie nodded even though he didn't understand that shit at all.

"Boring, hopefully you'll do something else when you're older kiddo." He said reaching up to mess up Eddie's hair, and the man rolls his eyes. "Haha." He dead pans, grabbing Richie's hand away from his head and pulling him close like he was about to beat him up. Richie instinctively blocks the attack, reaching out to pinch the bridge of Eddie's nose and Eddie laughs. "Hey—!" He grips Richie's hair, pulling his head to the side and Richie hisses, "hey no fair!" He practically giggles, and for a little bit they wrestle each other's hands, reaching out to tickle necks and the sides of their bodies, wiggling around like children and laughing at each other. Eddie grabs him by the collar, pulling him up to face him, as the man glares playfully at Richie. But then their noses brush together and they both realize just how close they ended up.

And suddenly the air in the room shifts, and Richie feels his heart banging around the inside of his rib cage, causing his body all types of internal bleeding he's sure. Breath, breath. You know how to breath right? Up close he can see the speckles of gold in Eddie's eyes. And his pretty long eyelashes, and the way he's looking at Richie—

The way he's looking at Richie.

He didn't understand why, but Eddie looked at Richie like he was actually attractive, and you know what, in that moment he kind of believed it, if someone like Eddie was willing to be so close.

Richie feels his breath hitch, and goosebumps rise over his shoulders and arms when fingers slide up the side of his jaw. Eddie presses his hand to Richie's cheek, and Richie leans into it, like a puppy dying for affection. He can see Eddie's eyes flick down to his lips a few times and he swears he is getting light headed.

"I-" Richie tries but can't get out words because there are lips over his. And almost like electric fire, Richie's blood boils with passion and he surges forward to kiss back. He grabs the back of Eddie's neck, pulling him up and into his lap. And fuck, Richie might seriously be dying because his heart raced at a million miles an hour.

His lips were so soft, and warm, and oh- OH, Eddie shoves his tongue deep inside Richie's mouth and he melts right then and there on the spot. Eddie licks the back of his teeth, while Richie tries to reach out, grab anything, stabilize himself in reality. He find's Eddie's hip's and grips hard.

Well. So much for 'just being friend' huh?