Hello Friends! This is part six of my multi-part series "It Was Always You."
As a quick recap - Eddie survived the fight with Pennywise. Eddie & Richie figured their shit out. Eddie is now living with Richie in Los Angeles. They've been together for almost two and a half years. Also, the OC character, Liam, is Richie's manager after he dumped Steve's homophobic ass.
Title based on The Best Part of Me (Is You) by Ed Sheeran feat. Yebba: watch?v=U1_0b7CkucA
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The Best Part of Me (Is You)
Chapter One
Richie's POV
EXT. SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD STREET - NIGHT
Stuart turns off the car, turning to Danny.
STUART
Ok. Do we need to go over the plan again?
DANNY
No. No. I got it, man. I'm ready for this.
STUART
Are you sure? Cause you gotta be fucking sure, man. There's no do overs for this kind of shit.
"Rich?" a voice echoes down the hallway.
Richie's eyes break away from his laptop. "I'm in the office, baby!" Richie yells.
Richie's in his usual writing position on their office couch - legs propped up, crossed at the ankle, extending the length of the couch, balancing his laptop on his lap. He types away, trying to finish his script as the sound of Eddie walking down the hallway gets louder and louder until he walks into the sun-soaked office. Richie smiles, catching sight of Eddie who's wearing his running tank top and shorts.
"Hey," Eddie says, smiling as he walks over to Richie. He sits on the edge of the couch, pushing into Richie's side, splaying a hand on Richie's knee. "I'm gonna go for a run, okay? I probably won't be back before you leave, but I'll be back in time for the guys who are delivering the pool table."
Richie snaps his laptop shut, placing it on the side table behind his head allowing him to wrap his arms around Eddie, pulling him tight against him. "Wow, once that's delivered we can finally call the Clubhouse done! Can you believe it, baby!?" Richie says, pulsing his arm muscles, squeezing Eddie's sides.
Eddie lets out a breathy laugh; his smile is brilliant in the morning sun. Shifting in Richie's arm, he runs his hands up Richie's chest, stopping to curl them over Richie's shoulders. "I know! We've been working on it since we moved in. Now when we have Bill and Audra over for movie night we won't have to apologize for all the dust."
"Mhm. Wanna christen the pool table tonight?" Richie asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
Eddie knocks his forehead against Richie's shoulder with a snort. Raising his head back up, he says, "That sounds uncomfortable. I mean, imagine that fabric scraping against your back? Ugh. No thank you." He shakes his head, scrunching his nose in a way Richie finds absolutely adorable.
Overcome, Richie pulls Eddie to him, smacking a wet kiss to his cheek. "I can hold you up," Richie whispers in Eddie's ear, a hand roaming South to cup Eddie's butt. "Against the edge. I mean, we need to make sure it goes with all the other furniture in the Clubhouse, right?"
Eddie puffs a laughter against Richie's neck. "I think we should christen the couch in the movie room before we move to the pool table, yeah?"
"Oh yeah!" Richie agrees, squeezing Eddie's ass. "I love how you think, babydoll."
"Mhm. Not tonight though," Eddie says idly, twirling a lock of hair at the back of Richie's neck.
"Aw, why not?"
"I was thinking we could go out tonight. You know, a date night before we leave tomorrow?" Eddie leans in deeper to Richie's side as he cocks his head, gazing at Richie wantonly. The twirling of Richie's curls is getting longer, rougher, as Eddie twirls it around his finger, right at the root, before pulling it, the hair uncurling around his finger as it straightens out, only to bounce back when he releases it. While continuing to play with Richie's hair, he adds, almost as an afterthought, "Although we're going to need to go to bed early, since we have to get up early for our flight."
Tomorrow they're heading to Chicago to meet up with the rest of the Losers for a momentous occasion - Ben & Bev's wedding. Richie can't wait to celebrate, drinking and partying into the night with all of his best friends. Not to mention he gets to bring Eddie as his date. Or he gets to go as Eddie's date. Either way.
"You want to go on a date night and go to bed early? Those two things don't go together," Richie chuckles, leaning his head into Eddie's touch. He's so content, he could purr.
"Ok, that's fair, but let's save the movie room couch for another night, yeah? It's a big couch afterall. Need to make sure we cover all of it," Eddie says with a devious smile, pulling another lock.
"Cover it?" Richie gasps, dramatically.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, realizing what he said. "No, no, I didn't mean it like thhaat!"
Richie laughs, squeezing Eddie against him. "Oh my gosh, babydoll. I mean, I knew you liked it dirty, but you're making me blush over here! We'll have to get it cleaned before we have Bill and Audra over."
"Stoooop!" Eddie laughs before pulling RIchie into a kiss, his personal 'beep, beep'. Eddie pulls off Richie's lips with an audible pop. "Ok, I'm going to head out. Do you think your group writing session is going to go long?"
Richie's stomach twists into a knot. He told Eddie he had a group writing session this afternoon for a show he's executive producing, writing, directing, and even acting in as the lead. He's been fucking busy, to say the least. Miraculously, the pilot episode has been greenlit and is to be shot in two months right there in Los Angeles. Although, the series as a whole has yet to be greenlit.
It's a very exciting time for Richie - both for his career and personal life. He was recently nominated for not one, but two, Emmy awards. Both for his big coming-out-of-the-closet Netflix special - "That's So Gay!" It blew up in a way he never imagined - people twitting about it constantly, getting interviewed on late night shows, getting recognized while they're shopping at Trader Joe's.
There's a lot of pressure riding on his Emmy nominations. If he wins, even just one of them, his career is going to skyrocket into another plane of existence - his show will be greenlit, magazines will want him for the cover - really, his whole life will change over night. It's a little overwhelming, actually - all this new found stardom will only grow if he wins. Although, while his career seems to be changing every day, there is one constant in his life - Eddie.
When Richie wakes up in the morning, Eddie is there, groggy and cuddly. When Richie takes a break from his writing in the afternoon, Eddie is there, willing to take a break from gardening to go to lunch with him. When the end of the day rolls around and Richie can't see straight from staring at his screen all day, Eddie is there, curling his arms around Richie's chest, hooking his head over his shoulder to ask what they want to do for dinner. They're lives are simple and domestic, but Richie's never been so fucking happy.
"No, no. It - huh - it shouldn't take too long. I mean, I hope it doesn't," Richie pathetically replies to Eddie's question about his "group writing session." Richie's stomach twists itself tighter into a ball. He can't stand lying to Eddie.
"Ok, good," Eddie says, smiling. "You're meeting up with Liam first, right?"
"Yeah," Richie sighs, his stomach releasing some tension because that part is true. "He said he had some big news for me. No idea what it could be though."
"Well I don't know what could be bigger than getting nominated for two Emmys," Eddie chuckles, looking at Richie with adoring eyes. He pulls Richie in for another kiss, his hands cupping Richie's face. "Ok, I'm off, big guy. Have a good meeting. Let me know what Liam says, ok?" Eddie says, standing up from the couch.
Richie blushes. "Ok. Bye, baby. Have a good run. I love you!"
"Love you too," Eddie says, spinning back toward Richie, giving him a dazzling smile before spinning back again to head out.
As he hears Eddie leave the knot in Richie's stomach loosens, relieved he doesn't have to lie to Eddie anymore. He's been barely able to keep it together this last week.
Richie stretches, his limbs shaking from the lack of movement over the last hour. Jumping up from the couch he pads into their bedroom, pulling off his 'laying around the house' outfit - an overworn Nirvana t-shirt and basketball shorts, which hang off his hips due to the broken - really nonexistent - elastic to jump into the shower.
Once out, with a towel wrapped around his hips and his curls dripping, he goes to pull out an outfit he had actually planned in advance for today - dark blue jeans, a crisp white button-up t-shirt, and a dark blue pinstripe blazer, along with his favorite white sneakers. It might seem a little much for the hot July summer day in Los Angeles, but Richie wants to look and feel good for his appointment. He wants to feel like he belongs there.
He pulls on the dark blue jeans over his bright blue banana patterned boxers only to find them a little...tight. He wrestles with the button, trying to pull the two ends of his opened pants together. With a loud sigh, he gives up, throwing his head back in frustration, his fly gaping open. His mind whirls, trying to remember if he washed these pants recently.
Gritting his teeth, he tries again. Only when he sucks in his belly, making it as flat as possible, does he manage to button his pants. He smiles trimpuntily only for it to fall from his face once he releases his belly. He can actually feel his belly folding over the top of his pants.
Grunting in frustration, Richie rips the pants off, grabbing another pair from the closet. This pair, unfortunately, results in the same uncomfortable situation. Again, he tries another pair - same result.
It isn't until there are four pairs of pants scattered across the floor that it occurs to Richie that maybe it's not that the pants have shrunk, but that he-
Richie's eyes catch the clock. He's running late.
Quickly grabbing his first pair of pants, Richie slides them on, sucking in his belly to zip them up. His button-up shirt and blazer aren't much of an improvement - the buttons on his chest are straining, the blazer strangles his shoulders. Richie ignores all of this as he runs out the door, hopping into his car.
The car is stifling, pulsing with heat to the point where it's almost suffocating. Flicking on the air conditioning to high Richie backs out of their three car garage. Instead of cool, refreshing air, Richie's hit in the face with hot, dry air. He feels sweat begin to roll down his back and pool in his armpits, getting trapped in all of the places where his clothes are digging into his skin.
At this point, Richie is simmering with anger and frustration. The car is as hot as the concrete of their driveway. This is not the way Richie wanted to start the day - a day which he's been fretting about for weeks. Although he's excited too. Now that it's finally here, he's not going to let some tight clothes and oppressive weather get him down.
As he drives down the street he gets a good view of their new house in the rearview mirror - although "new" might not be the right word as they've been there for almost four months. Richie's shoulders loosen thinking about their new home and how they got there.
Richie and Eddie's life took an exciting turn after Eddie's surprise visit during Richie's tour - Eddie quit his suffocating job as a Risk Analysis and then joined Richie on tour. They traveled all over the country spending Richie's free time sight-seeing, eating and drinking at all the best restaurants, and having endless amounts of sex. Following the end of Richie's tour, they returned to Los Angeles on the hunt for a new home.
For weeks, they drove around different Los Angeles neighborhoods everyday - Pasadena, Burbank, La Cañada, the Hollywood Hills. For neighborhoods that were more their style, they would take time to walk around - visit local coffee shops, lunch at restaurants, drink at bars - to get a real sense of the neighborhood and to understand the "walkability" of the area - something very important to Eddie.
The first house they fell in love with fell through before they even had a chance to make an offer, being told it was sold just as they were leaving the house from their tour. This became a recurring event, happening over and over again whenever they found the 'one.'
It wasn't until one day when they were walking through the suburban neighborhood of Toluca Lake, holding hands and sipping their respected drinks - a sugar-filled black coffee and a matcha latte - from Priscilla's Coffee, a local coffee shop, that they found it.
Richie was scrolling through his phone, trying to get a sense of where they were in relation to the coffee shop - one of the most important things to Richie is that a good, quick cup of coffee is only a short distance away - when Eddie stopped dead in his tracks.
Richie tripped over his feet when his arm, his hand still locked with Eddie's, was pulled tight. "What is it, baby?" Richie said, as he walked back to Eddie.
"Look," Eddie said, his glaze locked across the street.
Following Eddie's gaze Richie noticed someone hanging a "For Sale" sign in front of a gorgeous modern white two story house covered in slate gray tiles. The arched front door was a beautiful cherry wood, the archway over the door following the same curve as the door, giving the entrance a unique twist. Plant life completely surrounded the house - a large olive tree sat on the edge of the sidewalk; square, neatly trimmed bushes filled the yard; ivy cascaded down the side of the house.
Without a word, Richie pulled out his phone, dialing their real estate agent to ask for a tour; Eddie squeezed his hand as he curled into Richie's side.
Within the hour, they were walking through the house, accompanied by their agent. The house was, for lack of a better word, perfect. The ceilings were covered in light mahogany wood which was covered in a grid work of dark wood beams. The kitchen was large - an island filled the center; a long, low bench ran along the back wall behind a dining table. Large open windows lined the wall, filling the kitchen with soft light.
Other items on their 'must-have' list were quickly checked off. Large bath and walk-in shower, perfect for two, in the master bathroom - check. Multiple bedrooms for guest bedrooms and a home office - check.
When they found out the house had a basement - a rarity in Los Angeles - they exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other. The basement was enormous, spanning the length of the house. The walls were bare; the floor was covered in a shag carpet and there were buckets filled with kid's toys lining the wall. While it wasn't much, it had great potential. At this point in the tour, Eddie was beaming, his eyes sparkling with childhood hope. Richie was sweating, praying that they wouldn't lose this one too, not wanting to see another disappointed look on Eddie's face again.
When they walked outside, to the backyard, both Richie and Eddie gasped. Green grass covered the backyard, multiple tall trees casting it in shade. The back of the house was completely covered, practically overtaken, by ivy. Next to a large open batch of grass - perfect for Eddie's garden - was an outdoor grill station. From the grill, large stepping stones trailed across the grass leading to a low trellis wall, in the center of which was an arched doorway relieving a massive pool.
They walked up to the edge of the pool, only an inch from the shallow water of the beach walk-in. In the middle of the shallow water was a large umbrella, covering it in shade. From the shallow water, the bottom of the pool dipped down, going deeper and deeper until it bottomed out in the deep end. Above the deep end was a low stone wall, holding a circular hot tub which had a waterfall running into it from a low rockwall behind it.
"What do you think?" their real estate agent asked.
Richie didn't respond. He simply looked at Eddie.
With his eyes filled with hope and longing, Eddie locked eyes with Richie as he grabbed one of Richie's hands with both his own. "I love it," Eddie said simply.
That was good enough for Richie. Entwining his fingers with Eddie, Richie turned. "We'll take it," he said.
And with that, they left. It wasn't until later that night they got the good news - the house was theirs. Eddie was so ecstatic he literally jumped into Richie's arms, screaming with excitement, twisting his arms and legs around him, smothering him in kisses. They celebrated late into the night, so much so they were both sore the next day.
The next few months were filled with cardboard boxes, wrapping paper, and numerous visits to home improvement stores, furniture stores, and gardening stores. Richie didn't know he could have so much fun running errands.
The ping of an elevator pulls Richie from his memories. He's arrived at Liam's office. With a new peep in his step, Richie walks towards Liam's office, waving at the receptionist on his way.
"Hey, Liam!" Richie greets, knocking on the door frame to Liam's office. "Oh, I'm sorry," Richie says, surprised to find someone else in Liam's office. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Richie!" Liam yells, jumping up from his office couch to give Richie a hug. With his hand on Richie's arm, he guides Richie into his office. "Rich, you've met John, right?"
"Yes, we've met many times before actually," John says, standing up from the couch to shake Richie's hand. "We've both been in the business for awhile now. Right, Richie?"
"Yeah, yeah. It's good to see you, John." Richie's hand is clammy, slick with sweat against John's. Richie and John have met a number of times, through the years, at different parties and events.
"John is joining the company!" Liam exclaims, smiling broadly as he pats John on the back. "I'm the luckiest manager in Hollywood! Representing the two best comedians of our time!"
Richie's stomach falls out, taken back by the news. He tries to hide his reaction by plastering a smile on his face. "That's fantastic. Congrats, John!"
"Thanks," John says. "Hey, I'm going to head out. I know you guys have a meeting. Talk to you soon, Liam. And it was nice seeing you, Richie. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other a lot more now." And with that, John is gone, leaving Richie and Liam alone.
"Richie! Sit! Sit! I have such exciting news!" Liam says, sitting back down on the couch.
"Uh. Yeah. Sure." Richie falls back onto the leather couch only to be reminded of his ill fitting clothes.
"So, guess who I got off the phone with this morning?"
"Who?" Richie twitches in his seat, trying to readjust his pants without making it too obvious.
"Lorne Michaels!" Liams practically yells, looking at Richie expectly.
Richie's mind is elsewhere though. At the moment, his mind is focused on his blazer, which is digging into his armpit. He's half convinced it might be cutting off circulation.
"Rich?"
"I'm sorry. What?" Richie shakes his head, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to adjust his blazer.
"Lorne Michaels! Of SNL! You're on the short list for hosting! Isn't that great!?"
"Oh. Wow. That's awesome. Wait, the short list?" Richie frowns, fidgeting.
"Yeah, they haven't finalized the list yet. To be honest, I think they're waiting for the Emmys. You know, so they can have an Emmy award winner host the show. But don't worry about that. Everyone knows you're going to win," Liam waves his hand like he's batting away an annoying insect.
Richie has been hearing this phrase a lot - 'everyone knows you're going to win.' At this point, he wonders where people are getting their information from, because he doesn't know if he's going to win or not.
"Oh. Ok. So that's it?" Richie tugs at his pant legs.
"That's it!? My man! This is Saturday Night Live we're talking about!"
"No, no. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that's it? We have to wait until the Emmy's to find out if I'm hosting?"
"The short answer is 'yes,' but don't worry, I'll work my magic with Lorne. We go way back."
"Huh. Ok. Um, if you say so." Richie feels like he's sweating from every orifice on his body.
"Hey, buddy, you doing ok?" Liams asks, concerned. "You don't look so good."
"Oh. I guess...I guess I'm just nervous," Richie chuckles dryly, trying to play off how uncomfortable he is.
"Nervous? Ooohhh," Liam says, elongating the sound as he leans back in the couch, giving Richie the 'I know what's going on look.' "Today's the day, isn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah. Heading there after this."
"Well, I certainly don't want to hold you up! This is a big day for you!" Liam bounds off the couch, leaning against the doorway as he shouts down the hallway. "Hey, Michelle! Get Richie a seltzer!" He turns back to Richie, talking to him over his shoulder. "It'll help with your nerves. Settle the stomach."
"Oh - huh - thanks," Richie says, standing up from the couch just as Michelle extends a seltzer to Liam before running back to her station. Richie grabs the seltzer, brushing past Liam on his way out.
"Hey Rich!" Liam yells, causing Rich to turn back halfway down the hallway. "Just don't overthink it, okay?" Liam says, a grin plastered on his face.
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks Liam," Richie says, trying to pull a smile on his face. "See ya later."
In the elevator, Richie takes a gulp of seltzer, the fizz only managing to agitate the frantic butterflies swarming in his stomach. He groans, frustrated, as the elevator doors close on him.
/
Richie sucks desperately at the straw of his S'mores Frappuccino, trying to cool down his overheated body. His clothes are feeling partially uncomfortable as they bite into his skin. He's sitting in a Starbucks, across the street from his afternoon appointment. In untypical Richie fashion, he arrived early, so afraid he was going to be late and miss his meeting.
As he's licking the whip cream off his straw he feels his phone vibrate. He pulls it out, his face lighting up when he sees it's from Eddie.
*Eddie*
The pool table arrived!
So, I've been looking online and
found that you can get a ping pong
table to go over the pool table! Isn't
that cool!?
*Richie*
Oh man, now I get to beat your ass at
pool AND ping pong! I'm such a lucky guy.
*Eddie*
Oh, well I was thinking we
could use the ping pong table
for...other things *wink*
Images flash through his mind - Eddie splayed out on the table top, his butt hanging over the edge as Richie...Or, perhaps, the other way around - Richie laying on the table top, trying to grab the edge to keep himself in place as Eddie-
'Your fat ass would break it.'
Frappuccino spews from Richie's mouth as he hears his internal voice. A flush spreads across Richie's face as the thought that's been burning in the back of his mind is finally vocalized. It's not that his clothes have shrunken. No, he's just gotten fat.
*Richie*
Oh my gosh, we'd break it *laughing face*
Although what he really wants to say is 'I would break it.' Thinking Eddie might be able to glean what he really means he quickly types another message.
*Richie*
You know from our epic love making *kissy face*
*Eddie*
We can always buy another one *kissy face*
Richie's embarrassment dissipates. Eddie has no idea what he does to Richie sometimes.
*Richie*
I love you
Have I told you that lately?
*Eddie*
I think you said it this morning, like ten times
I love you too
Ok, I'm buying it!
There! Done!
I'm gonna kick your ass, Trashmouth
*Richie*
Mmm, please do! *drool face*
Love when you kick my ass
Love
Babydoll
*Edde*
Oh my gosh, not right now
I'm about to go out and garden,
and I DO NOT need our neighbors
to see me with a raging hard on
*Richie*
That's so HOT! *fire emoji*
*three eggplant emojis*
*Eddie*
*Rolling eye emoji*
*Kissy face emoji*
Are you on a break from your writing session?
*Richie*
Yup!
About to go back in though
*Eddie*
OK! Have a good writing session
Oh! I have an idea for our date tonight!
I think you'll really like it. *smiley face*
*Richie*
OOHH! What is it?
Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!
*Eddie*
Nope. Not until you come home.
*Richie*
You little minx
*Eddie*
Go back to your writing session
Love you
Looking forward to tonight!
'You know he doesn't really mean that,' Richie's internal voice jumps in.
Richie hisses, typing out his response to Eddie.
*Richie*
Love you too baby!
ilysm
Can't wait to come home to you
*three kissy faces*
Richie clicks his phone, turning the screen dark as he drops it on the counter. He shoves his face in his hands, shrinking in on himself, trying to hide from his venomous internal voice.
'I mean, let's be honest. You've gotten pretty fat lately. Sitting around the house all day, everyday, and drinking sugary drinks like it's your job. Why would Eddie want to go out with someone like you?'
Richie groans, digging the palms of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to hold back his tears.
'Even Liam knows you're a worthless piece of shit. Why do you think he brought on what's his face? He knows all this attention - the Netflix specials, the Emmy nominations, the pilot - is going to fizzle out and die. Just like your relationship with Eddie.'
"Stop," Richie whispers, hoping no one has noticed he's having a breakdown.
'Liam wants someone who has a career ahead of him. Someone who is young and accomplished - hosted SNL three times, has multiple Netflix specials, and is a two-time Emmy award winner. And you? You're nothing."
Richie grits his teeth, sucking in a deep breath to keep his body from going into a full on anxiety attic in a fucking Starbucks.
'It's only a matter of time before Eddie realizes all of this, and he dumps your pathetic ass to find someone else. You actually think he's going to want to mar-'
Richie's phone vibrates on the counter, the shrilling sound ripping through his thoughts. Wiping his misty eyes with his shirt sleeve, Richie fumbles for his phone, thankful for the interruption, to see a text from Eddie.
*Eddie*
I was listening to NRP and they mentioned your Emmy nominations
They recommended people watch your Netflix special
They said it was like 'no other comedy special you're seen before'
'Groundbreaking!'
So proud of you!
Richie sniffs, already feeling better from Eddie's message, responding with a row of kissy faces.
'It's only a matter of time before he leaves you.'
'That's not true,' Richie thinks, talking to himself. 'He loves me. Eddie loves me. Eddie loves me. Eddie loves me.'He mentally chants over and over again, drowning out the nasty thoughts.
Richie's phone vibrates again.
*Eddie*
Sorry to bother your while you're in your session
Just wanted to let you know
*kissy face*
Letting out a wet sigh, Richie feels a burst of love blossom in his stomach, so thankful for Eddie. There are periods of time when Richie's nasty internal voice doesn't make an appearance, but there are other times when it decides to rear its ugly head. He's gotten better at squashing it, but sometimes - partially when he's anxious or stressed - it takes control, completely crushing Richie under its weight.
Keeping Eddie's last text in mind, Richie shuffles out of the Starbucks, throwing his half empty S'mores Frappuccino into the trash as a half formed thought floats through his head - 'That went right to my fucking thighs.' The heat of the beating sun and the sloshing of his drink in his stomach brings up an unease that's been biting at the back of his mind the whole day - well really, ever since he scheduled his appointment.
He rings the buzzer on the nondescript building, his stomach doing somersaults.
"Hello?" a disjointed voice says, crackling through on the speakers.
"Uuummm," Richie drones, momentarily forgetting why he's there. Shaking himself, Richie spits out, "Hi - huh - I'm Richie Tozier. I - huh - I have an appointment."
"Oh! Mr. Tozier!" the voice cracks, somehow sounding friendlier. "Come on up."
A loud buzz rings, allowing Richie to pull the door open. After stumbling up multiple floors Richie stops outside two unmarked frosted glass doors. Hearing another buzz, Richie enters a lavish lobby filled with lush carpet, crystal chandeliers, and quiet Jazz music.
"Hello, Mr. Tozier. It's so very nice to meet you," a lady says, delicately shaking his hand. "May I offer you some sparkling water or champagne?"
Licking his lips, Richie croaks, "Water, please," sending a prayer that it will help calm his rolling stomach.
"Of course," she smiles. "We'll get that right for you. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to our main showroom."
She glides across the lobby, guiding him to another double set of unmarked frosted doors. His stomach drops, a giant wave of nerves assaulting his insides. He's finally here. It's finally happening. He's thought about this since he was a little boy.
Large glass cases line both sides of the petite room. Small delicate items fill the cases, each shining in the sun, large diamonds and gold bands throwing rainbows across the walls.
"So," she says, walking behind a case full of men's rings, "tell me about your partner-"
"Eddie," Richie breathes, the word falling easily from his lips as he sits in a cushioned chair in front of the case. A glass of sparkling water is placed in his hand.
"Eddie," she says, smiling. "So, tell me about Eddie." She pulls out a lush velvet pad, placing multiple rings on its surface - a simple gold ring, a modern flat white gold ring, and a textured platinum ring.
Richie grins, all his nerves and anxious thoughts falling away. Eddie's always had that effect on him. Even when he's not around Eddie helps quiet Richie's tangled thoughts. He gives him courage and he makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. "Well, I hope I'm your last appointment for the day, cause this might take awhile."
/
"Eddie! My love! I'm hooome!" Richie yells, throwing his keys into the bowl on the kitchen counter. He haphazardly throws his blazer on the back of a chair. His shirt lands on the couch armrest.
"Eddie! My heart! Where are you?" He calls, his voice echoing down hallways and up stairs.
"I'm out here, Rich!" Eddie's voice rings from outside.
Richie steps out into their backyard, finding Eddie kneeling in front of his garden clad in his brimmed sun hat and working gloves.
"Hi, baby." Richie pads through the grass, pulling his undershirt out from his pants. "You're not letting those nasty weeds bully you, are you?" Falling to his knees behind Eddie, he pulls Eddie back against his chest, running the tip of his nose along the curve of Eddie's neck.
Eddie squirms in Richie's arms. "Oh, Rich, I'm all sweaty!"
"I like you sweaty," Richie says, pressing light kisses up Eddie's slick neck.
Eddie laughs, pulling Richie's arms tighter around him. "Hey! Look at what I just pulled," Eddie says excitedly, showing Richie two plump tomatoes.
"Oh my, Edward! What big balls you have!"
"Stooop!" Eddie whines, poking an elbow into Richie's stomach. "Hey, how was your meeting with Liam?" Eddie asks, placing his prized tomatoes into a basket.
"Oh, well, what if I told you you might be dating a soon-to-be host of S-N-L!?"
Eddie gasps, turning in Richie's arms, his eyes shining with excitement. "No fucking way!"
"Way, baby!" Richie grins.
"Oh my god, Richie!" Eddie screams, tackling Richie to the ground. "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Eddie says, grabbing Richie's face, diving to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. "Oh my gosh, Rich. You've been talking about this forever!" He dives again, kissing Richie again. Richie moans into Eddie's mouth, more thrilled with Eddie's reaction than the actual news. "You're going to be so good, baby." Eddie mumbles against Richie's lips, quickly going back to lick inside Richie's mouth. Eddie pulls back suddenly, leaving Richie dizzy. "Wait? Why did you say 'might be?' Eddie frowns in confusion.
Richie shrugs. "I'm on the waiting list. Apparently they want to wait until the Emmys or something."
"Oh," Eddie breathes, relaxing. "Ok, well, you're going to win so that's not a big deal."
Richie gulps, breathless at Eddie's confidence in him. Of all the people that have shared their confidence about Richie winning, Eddie is the only person he's worried about disappointing.
"Right," Richie gulps, blinking up at Eddie's adoring face. "Right, yeah. Of course."
Eddie grins, laying his head on Richie's chest. "Well, we should celebrate tonight," Eddie says, drawing circles on Richie's chest.
"Oh, I like the sound of this," Richie sighs, wrapping his arms around Eddie. "So what were you thinking for tonight, baby?"
"Well, I was thinking we could go to The Americana. We could go to that dumpling place we really like-"
"Din Tai Fung?"
"Yes! That place! We can get those little soup dumplings and those dessert buns!" Eddie says, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh! And we can go to that outdoor bar! Drink some cocktails before dinner?"
Richie swoons, glad that he's already laying on his back. Even after two and half years of dating, going out with Eddie - dating Eddie - is still something that still blows Richie's mind. The fact that they get to do actual dating things - hold hands, go to dinner, kiss in public - always leaves Richie breathless.
Richie laughs, giddy with excitement. "Oh, I love how you think, babydoll!" He wraps his arms tight around Eddie, leaning up to kiss him on the head.
"Yeah?" Eddie smiles into Richie's chest. "Does that sound good, big guy?"
Richie gasps, all of his breath punched out of his lungs. Shame and embarrassment flood his senses. He wants to sink into the Earth; allow the weight of his body to pull him further and further into the dirt and bury him where no one will find him.
"What is it, Rich?" Eddie asks, confusion lacing his voice.
Richie gulps, his mind racing. "I - uh - I was just thinking maybe we could go to that other restaurant? The sushi place? We - huh - we haven't been there in awhile." His mind stumbles, pretty sure that sushi is a better, healthier alternative to soy sauce drenched dumplings.
"Oh," Eddie says, momentarily taken aback. "Ok, that sounds good." He's smiling now, excited by the idea.
Richie licks his lips, his racing heart easing back down. He's still flush with embarrassment, wondering what Eddie sees when he looks at Richie's - bloated, fat, grotesque - body.
Eddie sits up, stradling Richie's hips. "Well, how about I finish up out here, go shower, and then we can go? Yeah?" He says, gripping Richie's shoulders as he smiles down at him.
"Ok. I can - huh - I can help you, baby," Richie thinks that getting his body moving might get his mind off of these nasty thoughts. It also means he'll get to spend more time with Eddie.
Eddie chuckles, "Oh no. No, no, no. I know what you're doing, mister."
"Whaat? What am I doing?" Richie says, feigning innocence.
Eddie laughs, the sound of it ringing through the backyard. "Oh no, you 'helping' with the gardening means you're going to dig around in the dirt - maybe even flick some at me - and then you're going to claim you're 'dirty' and that you need to shower with me. We're going to out on our date, and then we're going to come back and having mind blowing sex-"
"Fuck yeah, baby," Richie purrs, arching his back up.
"And you're going to be completely exhausted."
"Yeah, I better fucking be."
"So much so you're going to put off packing until tomorrow morning. You'll promise me that you'll get up early to pack, but you won't! And then, I'll have to drag you out of bed and you'll run around the house until the last minute when we have to leave to catch our flight!"
"Ok, in all seriousness though, we're flying out of Burbank, not LAX, so it's not like we have to get up at the asscrack of dawn or anything. I mean-"
"No!"
"We could literally leave like an hour - 45 minutes - before our flight and we would be fine!"
"NO!" Eddie huffs, swinging his leg over Richie so he's no longer straddling him. "It gives me fucking aniexy when you leave packing to the last minute. Please, Richie. Please go pack." Eddie says, giving his trademark puppy dog eyes.
"But I want to help you," Richie whines, giving his own puppy dog eyes, although he already knows who's going to win this contest.
"Ok…" Eddie says, shuffling next to Richie. He leans down, both of his hands bracketing Richie's face, ghosting his lips over Richie's. "How about you go pack and if you're done in time you can join me in the shower? Huh?" Eddies licks a strip over Richie's lips.
"Uuuhh…" Richie is defenseless.
Eddie chuckles. "Ok, big guy. Go get packing and I'll see you shortly." Quickly kissing Richie, Eddie swings toward the garden, clipping more tomatoes.
Dazed, Richie stumbles back into the house, the words "big guy" still ringing in his head. He clicks the bedroom door shut, thankful Eddie won't be there to witness the disaster that is about to be their bedroom from the number of discarded clothes Richie's about to try on.
/
Author's Note: I'm so sorry to do this to Richie! Out of all the Losers, I think Richie struggles with self-worth the most - he's not confident, he's very self-critical, and on top of that he experiences imposter syndrome quite a lot. Of course, he deflects all of this with comedy, constantly making jokes about himself or a situation to distract himself and other people from really saying what he's thinking. I think this is why I - and other people - relate to Richie so much. He's a much deeper and more complex character compared to how he first comes off.
Also, I'll let you decide what show Richie is working on as well as who the comedian "John" is. *wink*
/
Research: It's probably not obvious, but I do a lot of research for the stories I write. All of the places mentioned in the story are real locations in Los Angeles. I know it's a bit nerdy, I have a lot of fun researching places and then imaging Richie and Eddie in that environment. So I thought it would be fun to share my research!
Links:
Richie's outfit: entertainment/tv/a26988169/bill-hader-2019-interview-barry/
Toluca Lake: A very, very upscale neighborhood located in the San Fernando valley. It's a stone's throw away from the Warner Bros. Studio lot. It's also home to a lot of celebrities, such as Miley Cyrus, Steve Carell, and Melissa McCarthy.
news/toluca-lake-hollywood-power-players-859171
Priscillia's Coffee Shop:
The Americana At Brand: A very fancy upscale outdoor mall.
Din Tai Fung: .