Author's note: I apologize for the wait on this chapter, but I hope you're all still here, because I'm definitely still working on this story. It was just a bit hard transitioning to the second half, but I hope you enjoy this update!
Brave
Chapter 24 – Jason
When Eddie awoke the next morning, he was surprised when he didn't feel Richie comfortably curled up around him. Eddie reached his hand out towards Richie's side of the bed, but found it cold and empty. Whining loudly, Eddie cracked his eyes open to glance around the room, but didn't see Richie there either. At least, however, Richie had had the foresight to close the drapes tightly, so that the bright morning sun didn't disturb Eddie.
It was strange. There was probably a time when Eddie would have been thrown into a panic attack at finding Richie gone without word, but Eddie only felt ridiculously calm. Maybe it was simply being in Richie's – their – apartment altogether, because Eddie felt like he was at home already. Not just a guest in someone's house, but home. Not walking on eggshells either like he constantly did with his mother and Myra, wondering when things would explode again. Eddie had spent his entire life looking for a place where he completely belonged, where he could truly relax and be himself without fear, and he had finally found it.
Home. This was what home felt like.
On the other hand, perhaps it was a combination of everything he and Richie had done the night before. From their ride on the Ferris wheel, to coming home together, to experiencing their very first orgasm with each other. It had all been amazing, and Eddie didn't think he'd ever felt as close to Richie as he did right now. Eddie didn't even think it was possible to love Richie any more than he already did, but it seemed like every morning he woke up, he was proven wrong.
Eddie stretched out on his stomach, allowing his left hand to run across the sheets on Richie's side of the bed. There were faint pillars of light creeping in around the edges of the curtains, and one of them perfectly illuminated the ring on Eddie's finger. Eddie pressed at the platinum band with his thumb, wiggling it around and watching the way the fire opal caught the sunlight and reflected it back at him.
That was when he noticed the small slip of paper laying on top of Richie's pillow. Eddie grabbed it, holding the note up in the early morning sunlight so that he could read it.
Couldn't sleep. Went to get breakfast. Be back soon.
I had them bring up your luggage early this morning,
so you can start getting settled in.
Everything's in the living room,
but no heavy lifting until I get back!
I love you.
~R(+E)
Eddie smiled deeply and ran his thumb over his and Richie's initials on the note. The pad of his thumb then drifted up to the words 'I love you', and Eddie sighed contently in response. Jesus Christ, he and Richie were sort of like a couple of dumb teenagers, but Eddie thought they deserved it. They had spent so very long pining over each other while being completely miserable with their love lives in general. They had a hell of a lot of time to make up for being all sickeningly romantic.
"I love you, Richie," Eddie whispered, flopping over onto his back. He held the note over his heart for a moment, staring up at the ceiling.
God, he'd never been happier.
Eddie unpacked his toiletries and got them all lined up on the counter in the master bath just like Richie said he'd thought about. Eddie brushed his teeth, washed his face, and combed his hair so that he wouldn't look like a complete mess when Richie came back. Not that Richie cared one way or the other, but he wanted to be at least a little bit presentable.
Eddie made the bed and then retrieved his stuffed turtle from the kitchen where he'd left it the night before. He placed Michelangelo in the middle of his and Richie's pillows, sighing softly when he heard the lock clicking in the front door. When Eddie emerged back out into the living room, he saw Richie setting his keys down on the table by the door. He was juggling two to-go coffee cups and a small paper bag in his grasp.
"Morning, my love," Richie said around a grin when he saw Eddie joining him. "Did you get my note?"
"Mhm," Eddie murmured, crossing the entryway to Richie. He stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Richie's lips. "And I love you."
"I'm sorry I didn't wake you," Richie said, "but you looked so gorgeous in my bed, I couldn't bear to disturb you. Were you upset?"
Eddie could feel his cheeks growing warm as he shook his head. "No, not at all. I actually woke up feeling really…at peace, you know? I just…feel safe here. You make me feel safe."
"You are," Richie replied, smiling and laying another kiss on Eddie's lips. Then he held up the coffee and bag and said, "Bagels and coffee from the bakery around the corner. I almost didn't get out of there alive. Everyone was losing their shit over seeing me again."
Eddie took the coffee cup that Richie had had the barista write 'Eds' on and said, "Your fans missed you. I'm glad they're excited to see you back." He raised the coffee cup to his lips and took a tentative sip of the steaming liquid.
"Yeah," Richie said, fiddling with top edge of the bag in his hands. "And, um…speaking of which, I called Jason before I left, and he wants to meet for lunch. Already. Talk about getting my career back on track." He swallowed audibly.
Biting at his bottom lip, Eddie asked, "Does that mean…you're coming out to him?"
Richie nodded, frowning down at the paper bag. "That's the first course of action."
"That's why you couldn't sleep."
"Yeah," Richie admitted around a sigh. He paused for a long time before gestured towards the kitchen and said, "Let's sit down."
Eddie followed Richie into the kitchen where they sat down at the island counter. Richie took their bagels out of the bag, setting them out on the napkins that had been included. Richie picked at his bagel for a moment, and Eddie let him, knowing that he would talk about his feelings when he felt ready and not a moment sooner.
Eddie laid an encouraging hand over Richie's for a while, squeezing it and smiling at him around his bite of bagel.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Richie set it back down on the counter before he finally said, "I'm scared to death. I thought telling the Losers was fucking scary, but it's nothing compared to this."
"I know," Eddie told him, "but Jason's your friend too, isn't he?"
Richie swallowed a bite of bagel before staring up at the ceiling and letting out a heavy breath. "I like to think he is, but…the Losers are my best friends, and I was still scared shitless of telling them. You are my best best friend, and I almost shit myself at the thought of admitting my feelings to you. Terrified that you'd hate my guts…" Richie trailed off, picking at the edge of his bagel again.
"And look how that turned out," Eddie reminded him. He smiled and rested his chin in his hand, letting the early morning sun streaming in through the windows glint against his engagement ring. "I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't admitted your feelings to me."
The corner of Richie's mouth twitched up into a smile, but he said, "Even though I only did so, because I thought you couldn't hear me."
"Rich, stop," Eddie told him. "I told you, you're fucking brave and you can do this. Who knows? Jason might even surprise you and be incredibly supportive."
"Maybe," Richie sighed, taking another drink of his coffee. He stared at his cup for a long time before he said, "But being my friend and being my manager are two completely different things. He may not give two fucks if I'm gay or not, but that doesn't mean he'll still want to manage a gay guy on his coming out tour." He huffed out a breath before propping his chin up in his hand, his eyes still on his coffee cup before him.
Eddie paused for a long time, considering his next words carefully. Eventually, he just asked, "Well, what's the most important of those two?"
Richie shrugged at first, but then he quickly said, "Being accepted. It…it would be nice if I didn't have to find a new manager in all of this, but…I don't really want to lose him as a friend. I don't want him to hate me. I…All I've ever wanted is to be accepted for who I am."
"Then just worry about that right now," Eddie said. He took Richie's hand in his, the one by his face and carefully pulled it away. Waiting until Richie met his eyes, he said, "The rest with your career will come after. One thing at a time, you know?"
Nodding slowly, Richie repeated, "One thing at a time."
"And, Rich?" Eddie asked after another sip of coffee. "I'll be here all day getting unpacked and settled in, so you can text me or call me any time you need to, okay?"
"Okay," Richie repeated around a sigh. He rubbed his hand on the thigh of his jeans and asked, "Are you going to be all right here by yourself?"
Eddie smirked. "I'm not a little kid."
"No, I know," Richie said. "I just meant…this is your first full day here and I'm already leaving you by yourself."
"I'll be fine," Eddie insisted. "I can have leftover lasagna for lunch, and believe me, I have enough to do." He gestured towards his suitcases and boxes of belongings he had taken from his house in New York.
"No heavy lifting though!" Richie exclaimed, holding his index finger up to make a point.
Eddie brought his hand up and held his palm towards Richie in a promise. "No heavy lifting." He shrugged then and added, "Who knows. I may even look around for job offers online and get my resumé up-to-date."
"There are a lot of insurance firms around the area that I bet would love to have a sexy and talented risk analyst like you on their payroll." Richie wiggled his eyebrows at him like a lunatic.
Eddie struggled to contain a giggle by taking a large bite of his bagel. When he chewed it and swallowed he said, "Um, there was something I wanted to ask you about."
"What's that?" Richie seemed much more relaxed now that he and Eddie were talking about more mundane things, and he took a big bite of his bagel himself.
"It was about Helen," Eddie said. He wrung his hands together, hoping that his question wouldn't make Richie nervous all over again. "When does she, um…normally come?" His eyes shot down the hall to the front door, a little bit terrified that Richie's housekeeper would burst in and find a pajama-clad Eddie a little off-putting.
Richie waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Oh, she knows I sleep in a lot, especially when I have shows at night. She comes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, so you won't meet her till tomorrow, and I'm her last stop for the day. She shows up well after lunch – usually around two or three if she's running late."
Eddie ran his hands through his hair and shifted in his seat. "I can't believe I haven't thought about this before, but…Rich, she can't know we're sleeping in the same bed. I mean…I could keep my stuff in the guest room but-"
Richie cut him off with a soft laugh. "You definitely don't need to worry about her. Believe me, she'll be the last one to care if we're a couple of gay guys shacking up or not."
Blinking at Richie, Eddie was completely confused as to how he could be so sure about Helen's response to their sexuality. "But…you didn't…tell her…?"
"Nope," Richie said, popping a small piece of bagel into his mouth. He took a moment to chew it before he replied, "Don't need to. Her son is gay."
That definitely had not been the response Eddie had been expecting. All he could say was, "Oh."
"He and his now-husband were actually one of the first gay couples to get married in California when it became legal here," Richie explained. "Helen was so excited when it happened, and she couldn't stop showing me pictures from their ceremony." Richie smiled at the memory and added, "It was nice."
"You didn't…come out to her?"
Richie shook his head. "I couldn't," he whispered. "Not even when I felt like I had a completely safe place to do so. It was just…always easier for me to…pretend I was…normal, you know?" Richie huffed out a breath before he added, "Even though being gay is normal, and I have to stop thinking about myself like I'm an abomination. I was just so far in the fucking closet, I never wanted to come out."
"Rich…" Eddie said quietly, but then he fell into silence. He reached his hand across the counter, settling his hand over Richie's again. "You know you're not an abomination, right? Because you're not."
Running his free hand through his hair, Richie heaved a sighed. He buried his chin in his hand and stared at the kitchen wall for a long time. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, embarrassed. "I told you, I'm fucked up. I know you seem to think I have my shit together, but I really don't. Surprise, I'm a mess."
"But you're not," Eddie said, squeezing Richie's hand firmly. "Like you told me, we both have shit to work through, and we're going to do that together, okay?"
Richie nodded once before he said, "Together. But I…I think I think rely so much on what other people may think of me, because I'm in the public eye and I kind of thrive on the attention and approval, you know? It's why I am the way I am, I guess. It's why I turned out to be a comedian in the first place – because I always felt better if I could make people laugh with me before they could laugh at me. Before they could find a reason to laugh at me."
"Except no one ever laughs," Eddie said dryly, "because your jokes are all fucking stupid."
"Tell that to my fans," Richie said. He raised a finger, pointing into the living room where Richie's tote full of mail had been set. Eddie could see several envelopes had been torn open and a smile pile of letters that Richie had apparently gone through. "You wouldn't believe how many people wrote to me while I've been gone, begging to know when I'm coming back, because they're dying for more of my comedy." Richie's face fell a moment later, his eyes going down towards the floor. "Except I don't know if my new brand of comedy is going to be what they're expecting."
"Hey," Eddie said. He turned on his barstool until he was facing Richie fully. He took both of Richie's hands in his and said, "Listen to me. You're not an abomination." Eddie shook his head to emphasize his words. "You are the most amazing, understanding, and fucking patient person I've ever met in my life, and I never would have fallen in love with you otherwise. If everyone in this world was a lot more like you, then we wouldn't be as fucked up as we are."
Despite the seriousness of their conversation, there was a small grin playing about Richie's lips and Eddie was glad. Glad that he could get that reaction out of Richie, all things considered.
"So what you're saying," Richie said, "is that you'd love a world filled a whole bunch of Trashmouths."
"That's not what I said," Eddie grumbled. "I'd probably lose my fucking mind, because you're a pain in the ass."
"You love me."
"Shut up." Eddie paused for a while, reveling in the fact that he could help to get Richie relaxed, just as Richie had done for him so many times already. It didn't make Eddie feel like so much of a loser if he was capable of being at least a somewhat decent partner. After a moment, Eddie finally went on. "I just meant that…you're a really good friend."
"Dear god," Richie interjected, "I hope I'm more than that by now."
Eddie shook one of his hands inside Richie's in indignation. "That's not what I mean. But…you are my best friend and it's one of the reasons why I love you. And nobody that truly matters is going to think you're an abomination. Not me, or the rest of the Losers, or my nurse, James, or Helen, or your real fans. Or Jason if he's really your friend. We're all going to still love you and care about you. Me most of all."
"Most of all," Richie echoed, and he suddenly leaned forward. He pulled his hands from Eddie's and settled them on Eddie's hips instead. He captured Eddie's lips in a series of kisses, whispering, "I love you," in between them.
Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie's neck. He replied, "I love you," before deepening the kiss.
Richie drummed his fingers against the table in the café, bouncing his foot up and down uncontrollably. Thankfully, there weren't too many other customers at the small restaurant on the bottom floor of Jason's building that day, so at least Richie didn't feel like anyone's eyes were boring into him. There was a young girl and her mother a few tables away, but the girl was chattering away about what sounded like a new movie coming out, and her mother was struggling to keep the girl calm in the quiet of the restaurant.
"Are you sure I can't bring you anything else, sir?" his waiter asked him on his way past Richie's table.
Richie shook his head, staring down at his untouched glass of water sitting on the table before him. The ice inside had begun to melt, large drips of perspiration running down the outside of the glass to pool on the table. The glass looked like how Richie felt.
"No, thank you," Richie said as he cleared his throat. "I'm…I'm fine."
As the waiter made his way over to the little girl and her mother, Richie mentally kicked himself for having had coffee that morning. Sure, it had been a part of his regular routine for decades, and he didn't quite feel like he could function without it anymore, but he already felt enough on edge without the extra effects of caffeine. If he couldn't even reply to the waiter without feeling frazzled beyond belief, how in the world was he going to carry on an entire conversation with Jason about his fucking sexuality?
Burying his head in his hands, Richie briefly considered backing out of this altogether. He could just discuss his career in general like Jason was expecting and leave his coming out for another day.
But no. He didn't really want to do that. As scared as he was of being out of the closet, he was even more terrified of not coming out. Richie couldn't bear the thought of going back to the lie that was his old life – pretending to be a fucking ladies' man and constantly telling jokes about what bordered on being a sexual addiction. Just the thought of it now made Richie feel sick to his stomach.
That wasn't him and it wasn't who he wanted to be anymore. Not to mention, he had Eddie now, and Eddie deserved more than that. Of course, Richie knew that Eddie wouldn't be upset in the least if Richie continued on with his old act, but just the thought of it made Richie feel dirty somehow. Even dirtier than the thought of coming out did.
Richie just wanted to be himself, and Eddie was right – anyone that really mattered wouldn't think any less of Richie for it. That was what Richie needed to focus on. Anyone that didn't support him was just an asshole, and Richie was better off without them in his life.
He only hoped that he would still have more fans than haters after the fact.
Richie was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even hear when Jason arrived. He was only alerted to his manager's presence when the man spoke.
"I didn't know you were so devastated by the thought of having a lunch meeting with me after all this time."
Lifting his head from his hands, Richie nearly jumped a mile in his seat. He stared up at Jason like he had never seen the man before, and Richie felt vaguely like he had been caught doing something naughty – like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Jay," Richie said, desperately trying to keep his voice from shaking. He got to his feet, hoping to god that his legs didn't shake under him. He was wrong, because they felt like they were full of water, but at the very least, they supported his weight. Richie held out a hand for Jason, which the other man shook. "Thank you for meeting with me so quickly."
Jason sat down in the chair across from Richie, so Richie followed suit, glad to be back on a solid surface again.
"At the risk of sounding like an asshole," Jason said, "a part of me thought you might have decided to give up on your career altogether, so I was surprised to get your call this morning."
"No," Richie said firmly, because that was the last thing he wanted. "Definitely not. I'm actually excited to get back to my career, but you know I was just dealing with a lot over the last couple of months."
Jason's expression turned somber. "Yeah, and I'm sorry about that – about losing your friend."
"Thank you."
"How's the other one?" Jason asked. "The one that was in the hospital?"
"Better," Richie said, smiling at their topic of conversation. "He…actually decided to move to LA and he's going to start looking for a job out here. And…he's good. Almost completely healed from his injury." Richie had to bite his bottom lip to keep from spilling more details about his relationship with Eddie; a part of Richie was still so excited about everything that was happening, and he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
Jason raised an eyebrow in question. "So are you saying you want to bring a partner into the act and that's what this meeting is about? You want to know if I'll manage him too?"
Richie snickered loudly. "Oh, fuck no. He's hardly the comedian type. He's a risk analyst."
"The fuck is that?"
"The most boring job in all of existence," Richie told him. "Believe me, he wouldn't know good comedy if it bit him in the ass."
"Okay," Jason said slowly, "scratch the partner in the act then, but I'm still glad you called. I've missed you. I've missed working with you."
"Missed me, or missed the money I bring in?"
"Come on, Rich. Don't cheapen it."
"You only want me for my money, don't you?" Richie sighed heavily.
"I don't want you at all, but you have a way of turning up like a bad penny."
Richie grinned, because it was at least a little bit reassuring to know that things between him and Jason hadn't changed in the least during their time apart. Richie just hoped that his little announcement wouldn't do anything to ruin that.
The waiter had brought a fresh glass of water for Jason, which he quickly took a sip of. When the waiter asked if they were ready to order, Jason ended up getting what he always got – a bacon cheeseburger and fries. He was a creature of habit if nothing else.
"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Jason asked when Richie told the waiter he was good.
"No," Richie said. "I, um…I had a big breakfast." Richie could feel his face scrunching up as he said the words, because he didn't like lying, even about stupid little things. Richie could barely lie to Eddie long enough to find time to buy his engagement ring, for fuck's sake. Good god, how had he ever survived in his current career as long as he had?
Under normal circumstances, Richie's stomach would have growling uncontrollably by now, given that he'd only had a bagel that morning and it was lunchtime now. However, Richie's stomach was in so many knots right now, he couldn't even bear the thought of eating without being sick all over the place. It was why his glass of water still sat on the table untouched.
"All right," Jason said, unwrapping his paper napkin from the fork and knife the waiter had brought him. He took a moment to lay his utensils out on the table before looking up at Richie again. "I didn't know if you wanted to me to start lining gigs up for you right away, or did you want to take some time to rehearse since you've been away from it for so long?"
"Um," Richie muttered, staring down at the buttons on his blazer. "Yeah, about that…" He suddenly realized his hands were sweaty, so he rubbed them on the legs of his jeans. "Um…yeah, rehearsal would be good first."
"That's fine," Jason told him. "That's kind of what I expected, actually. Of course you're going to need a little bit of practice before you get back into it. Jesus, Rich, why are you acting like I'm going to let you go as client for that?"
Richie ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting around in his seat underneath Jason's gaze. "Well, no," Richie said. "Not for that, but…there's kind of something else that I wanted to discuss with you."
"Okay, shoot," Jason said, taking another sip of water like Richie wasn't on the verge of laying his entire life out on the table.
In the end, Richie decided to go with the easier of the two confessions first. He'd see how that went over, and if Jason was still there sitting across from him, then Richie would reveal what he truly came there to say.
"Well, I honestly…wanted to start writing my own material," Richie admitted. He was little bit concerned about how Jason would react, but at least it wasn't his sexuality. Not yet. "I've actually been thinking about it for a while, and…I'm kind of tired of this persona I've made for myself, because…it's not me. I…want to be more genuine."
Jason blinked at him like that had been the very last thing he expected to hear. "Oh," he said quietly. "Well, that's doable. I mean, obviously you need a lot more time to start working on that and develop it into your own act, but…if that's really want you want to do, then I'm hardly going to tell you no." Jason planted his elbows on the table and rubbed his hands together. "We could make that work really well. We could start a big marketing campaign about 'Richie Tozier's Comeback Tour – Real and Raw' or some shit like that. What do you think?"
"Yeah," Richie said weakly, because trust Jason to be getting ahead of himself before Richie had even told him the half of it.
"Come on, man," Jason said then, apparently taking notice of Richie's hesitancy. "This is why I'm not in marketing, but it's not that bad. Don't worry. We'll have the marketing department come up with something really catchy."
"That's not it."
"What then?" Jason asked, genuine concern flooding his voice for the first time. "If there's something else you want to do, just let me know, and we'll figure it out."
Richie bit at his bottom lip, his eyes trailing off across the café. The mother and her daughter were gone now, and Richie had been so caught up in his conversation with Jason, he hadn't even seen them leave. There was now a lone man sitting at a table in the corner, but he was so engrossed in that morning's paper, Richie didn't think he'd have to worry about this customer either.
"This…isn't about your career anymore, is it?" Jason asked.
When Richie directed his gaze back to Jason's face, the man's brown eyes were boring into him. It kind of made Richie feel like he was talking to Eddie instead, which was unnerving to say the least.
Richie shook his head in response, although he wasn't entirely sure where he was going to go from there. He felt like he was backed into a corner, with those words 'I'm gay' hanging in front of him, pinning him there. He could almost see those words in the air – big, and bright, and angry, and red. Bad things were always red, weren't they?
Like the fucking lines, and nose, and lips on that goddamned clown's face. Like the balloons he always had with him. Like the blood that had drizzled down Eddie's lips after he'd been impaled. Like the huge, gaping wound in his chest afterwards. Like the stains on Richie's bright yellow shirt after he and Bill had dragged Eddie out of the sewer.
But then Richie remembered why he actually liked the color red – like those stupid little shorts Eddie wore that still managed to make Richie's heart quicken in his chest. Like that red windbreaker Eddie had on in the Jade of the Orient that seemed to slam home all of the feelings that Richie still had for him. Like the bright red sweatshirt Eddie had on that day at the Kissing Bridge that Richie could see even without his glasses. Like the fire opal ring that Eddie now wore on his finger.
Richie smiled at the thought, even as Jason stared at him and waited for an answer.
"I'm your friend," Jason said quietly after nearly a minute of silence. "You know that, right?"
Richie nodded, but he wished that he could find his voice. It felt like it was caught in his throat, purposely trying to stop Richie from revealing his deepest, darkest secret.
"Then tell me what's going on," Jason said. He had set his hands down on the table and had leaned forward, staring intently at Richie. However, his gaze wasn't judging or scathing like Richie thought it might be; it was only one of concern.
"This is really fucking hard," Richie bit out, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. "I've only told a handful of people so far, and I'm still not getting used to this. I don't think I'll ever be used to it."
"Getting used to what?"
Richie took a deep breath and not taking his eyes off the ceiling, he said, "Getting used to telling people I'm gay."
A long and awkward silence met Richie's ears, forcing him to close his eyes. Why was that always the first thing he heard whenever he came out? Just all-encompassing silence, like he had shocked the words out of everyone with his announcement.
"Jesus, man," Jason said a moment later. "I thought you were going to tell me you were dying or something."
Richie could only lower his eyes to Jason and blink. "What?"
"I thought you were going to tell me you were dying of cancer or some shit!" Jason said, waving his arms around in emphasis. "You made it sound so dire."
"So, you're not…" Richie began, but then he stopped, reconsidering his words. "I mean…you don't hate me?" It hadn't exactly been the question that Richie had intended to ask, but it was out of his mouth before he could scarcely even process the words. Truth be told, it was still something he wanted an answer to. Always something he wanted an answer to. Especially after confessing he was gay.
Jason frowned, but he didn't look angry. Just confused. "Do give me some credit," Jason said. "Have I ever, in all the years we've known each other, given you the impression that I'm a homophobe?"
Richie's breath was coming heavier now, and he certainly couldn't find the words to express himself any longer. He shook his head. Then he thought he could feel the faint prickle of tears in his eyes, but he wouldn't start crying now. Not in front of Jason. He wouldn't. Even if he knew Jason wouldn't care right now.
"So…congratulations…?" Jason said awkwardly. "I don't know, I've never had anyone come out to me before, but don't people say that?"
Richie huffed out a breath of laughter, quickly swiping at his eyes. "Yeah, I guess they do. Like I said, I've only come out to a handful of people, and no one's said that to me so far."
Jason's frown was back, but this time, it was one of pure concern. "But they've all been supportive of you, right? Or do I need to kill someone?"
Richie couldn't stop the tear that spilled over his eyelid and spilled down his cheek. He nodded before he was able to reply. "Yeah, they have. Incredibly supportive."
"Okay, good," Jason said. Silence fell between them, but it was nice. Comfortable. Then Jason said, "Thank you. For telling me."
"Thank you for not telling me you hate me or some shit."
"You know, Rich," Jason said, "if your regular self wasn't enough to make me hate you, then I doubt anything will."
Richie laughed again, because Mike had told him something similar back at the townhouse in Derry. "So I've been told."
Jason stared down at his hands, picking at the edge of one of his sleeves where there was a single loose thread. "So that 'friend' of yours that came to LA with you – he's not just a friend, is he?" He looked up at Richie, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"No," Richie admitted. He ran a hand through his hair against and asked, "God, was I that obvious?"
"Mm," Jason hummed in thought, but then he said, "no. But now that I know…you did sound particularly endeared about his boring job and lack of sense of humor."
"It's not that he doesn't have a sense of humor," Richie said, and he couldn't believe he was defending Eddie for this. "It's just…very narrow and hinges on making fun of me a lot."
"The way you do to him," Jason said knowingly. "I see why you guys like each other so much – you thrive on that shit."
And just like that, Jason got him. It was something that Richie only thought he could experience with Eddie and the other Losers – that feeling of being completely understood – but here it was again. It seemed like Jason was more of a friend to him than Richie had ever given him credit for.
"What's his name?" Jason asked.
"Eddie." Richie's insides seemed to tingle at being able to talk about the love of his life so freely. At not feeling like he had to hide that part of himself anymore. At least not from Jason.
"Eddie," Jason repeated, nodding. "I'd like to meet him."
"I think we can arrange that," Richie agreed. "Maybe we can all have lunch together next time…as long as we find a restaurant that's safe for his allergies. That man's allergic to everything."
"Everything?"
"Okay, four things," Richie admitted, holding up the four fingers of one hand, "especially scary gluten."
Jason snorted. "Man, you've got it bad. Do you have any idea how absolutely smitten you sound? It's kind of gross, actually." Jason wrinkled up his nose at the idea.
Richie could feel his cheeks grow warm, because did he really sound that way when he talked about Eddie? Even when he was only discussing Eddie's allergies? Richie wasn't even trying to be that way, but he supposed it was simply a part of him by now. Just like the way it felt like Eddie lived in his very soul now. In that context, Richie could completely understand why the other Losers had seen his relationship with Eddie coming from a mile away.
As if sensing Richie's embarrassment, Jason said, "So I'm taking it that you want to come out as part of your show." He was still smiling, however, silently letting Richie know that the teasing wouldn't end there.
"Yeah," Richie said around a soft breath. "Like I told you, I want to be me, Jason. This…persona I've created over all these years is nothing but a fraud and…I hate it. I hate that my fans think I'm some sex-obsessed ladies' man, because that couldn't be further from the truth." Richie wrung his hands together before he said, "I just wasn't sure if you'd want to continue to…manage the gay Richie Tozier."
"I have to admit," Jason said, rubbing at his temple in thought, "this definitely isn't the conversation I thought we'd be having today, but…we can make this work."
"Yeah?"
Jason nodded. "Yeah. So instead of 'Real and Raw', how about 'Out and Proud'? Or what about 'Richie Tozier's Coming Out Tour'?" He used his hands to emphasize his ideas, splaying his fingers in the air and waving them around.
"Jesus Christ," Richie said, suddenly feeling almost overwhelmed with Jason's enthusiasm. "I appreciate your passion, but could you pretend for a minute that this is my career and my life here?"
"Sorry," Jason said sheepishly. He laid his hands flat on the table in an effort to calm himself. "Okay, listen. I understand that this is a big deal to you, so why don't you start thinking about how you want to do this? Write up a treatment and maybe some preliminary jokes that you'd like to try. We can go over it together – see what works and what doesn't – and we can go from there." He suddenly made a face and added, "And that sounds really weird, talking about this like it's a subject for your comedy tour."
"No, but…that's what I want," Richie said. "Don't get me wrong, it still scares me to death, but…at the same time, it feels really freeing to think about being so open about it. And I've wanted to be able to do that for a long time."
"Then that's what we'll do," Jason said reassuringly. "In the meantime, how would you feel about performing some of your old shows for a while just to drum up some buzz and excitement over the fact that you're back? I'll see if I can get you some shows around here and maybe a few out in Reno."
"Yeah," Richie replied. "As much as I kind of hate the thought of going back to that, I think it's a good idea considering what happened the last time I was on stage." Richie grimaced at the thought, willing his stomach not to clench. "I need to ease back into it, and I wouldn't want my own stunning material to be sullied by that." Richie grinned.
"Don't talk trash about your old material," Jason said, raising up a finger in Richie's direction. "It's not like I gave you shit to work with."
"It wasn't shit," Richie said, feeling himself relax into his seat even more. "It just isn't me."
Richie couldn't believe that this was where his conversation with Jason had ended up. That very morning, Richie had been so sure that Jason would hate him and be ready to drop him as a client. Now, here he was, talking about how they were going to handle Richie's 'Coming Out Tour'. It felt nice, and Richie wondered if he needed to start giving his friends the benefit of the doubt a lot more.
Richie didn't call or text Eddie after his meeting with Jason. Eddie had texted him a couple times, wanting to know how things had gone, but Richie didn't reply, because he wanted to surprise Eddie with the news in person.
Richie was almost bouncing with excitement as he unlocked the door of his apartment. When he got inside, however, something else entirely coursed through him.
Eddie had certainly put a dent in his unpacking, and he now had several of his belongings around the apartment. Eddie had some of his favorite books lined up neatly on the shelves of the entertainment unit underneath the television. Several of his coffee mugs were hung on the pegs in the kitchen. Still yet, Eddie had a picture of himself at the Statue of Liberty sitting on the coffee table next to a picture of Richie at the beach.
Fuck. It wasn't just Richie's apartment any longer. It was truly morphing into the home he shared with Eddie, and the feeling was almost overwhelming.
Richie couldn't hide the smile on his face when Eddie emerged out of the bedroom and made his way down the hall. At first, Richie wanted to tease him, to pretend like his meeting with Jason had gone horribly, but he just couldn't; Richie was positively too happy and excited to pretend to be anything but.
"Rich," Eddie gasped, "I didn't hear you come in. And I've been fucking worried about your meeting."
"Sorry," Richie said, grinning like an absolute lunatic. He suddenly couldn't help himself; he surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Eddie and lifting him up off the floor. "Oh my fucking god, it went incredible."
"Richie!" Eddie cried, waving his arms around in the air. "Put me the fuck down."
When Richie set Eddie down a moment later, he pulled away, the smile still evident on his face. "Sorry, but oh my god, Jason was amazing. I don't know why I ever doubted him, because he didn't even blink at the fact that I'm gay."
"Oh, Richie," Eddie said, wrapping his arms around Richie's neck and squeezing him tightly. "I'm so happy for you."
"Yeah," Richie said, hugging Eddie back firmly. "He still wants to work with me, and he's totally behind me coming out, and helping me work it into my show. Oh my god."
Eddie giggled as he pulled away, settling his hands on the front of Richie's chest. "Feel better?"
"Fuck yeah," Richie said. "And then I came home and…you're getting settled in." Richie glanced about the apartment, and he didn't think he'd ever tire of seeing Eddie's belongings spread around the place. Richie shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe this."
Humming in response, Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie's waist instead and asked, "Happy?"
"So fucking happy." For the second time that day, Richie's eyes were filling up with tears. This time, however, he didn't even try and stop them. For perhaps the first time in his life, things were falling into place for Richie.
Not only did he have Eddie, but Richie was going to have the career that he had always secretly dreamed about. He knew it would take a lot of time and hard work before he fully got there, before he truly came out publicly, but Richie had never been filled with so much hope for the future before. He had never been so certain that things would work out. That he'd have every single thing he'd ever wanted.
But Richie's current high was not to last. All too soon, Richie's world would feel like it was crumbling down around him all over again.
To be continued…
