The Best Part of Me (Is You)
Chapter Two
Richie's POV
"Rich?"
"Huh?" Richie's neck cracks, his head snapping to attention at the sound of Eddie's voice.
"Did you hear me?" Eddie huffs, staring down at Richie who's slouched down in an uncomfortable airport chair, burrowing into his 'going out' sweatpants and hoodie.
"Huuuh," Richie drones, blinking rapidly.
"Do you want breakfast? Coffee? I think that breakfast burrito place you like is open now."
It's early morning - a little too early for Richie. From where Richie and Eddie are sitting in the petite Burbank terminal they can see the sun beginning to crack over the Verdugo mountains looming over the tarmac.
"I wouldn't say I like it, more like I tolerate it-"
"I know, I know. I hate that this place doesn't have a fuckin' Starbucks too. I mean, what kind of airport doesn't have a fucking Starbucks!" Eddie bemoans, a little grumpy since he hasn't had his morning latte yet.
"No - huh - I'm good, babe. Just a large ass coffee and - huuuh-," Richie wracks his mind, trying to think of something healthier than a grease filled breakfast burrito, "-a banana!"
"A ban-a-na?" Eddie echoes, carefully forming each syllable, his eyebrows digging into the bridge of his nose, further deepening his frown.
"Huh. Yeah. That's it. Thanks, babe," Richie says, trying to wave away the awkwardness.
"Are you feeling ok, Rich?" Eddie takes a step forward, laying the back of his hand on Richie's forehead. His frown deepens as he pulls his hand away.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just - uh - tired, that's all." Richie smiles up at Eddie, hoping Eddie can't see right through him.
"Okkaaayy. Well, can you stay here and save our seats?"
"Sure. Of course, baby," Richie holds back a laugh. There are barely 10 people sitting outside of the gate with them. They arrived at the airport so early - Eddie's way of dealing with his travel anxiety - that they were one of the first people through security. "I've got this locked down, babe."
"Ok, I'll be right back," Eddie squeezes Richie's shoulder before walking away.
Richie slumps further down in his chair, his stomach audibly growling as he pulls down his baseball cap, hoping no one has recognized him. He's not in the mood to interact with any fans today. He wishes he could just go back to sleep so he can forget about his growing hunger and lingering embarrassment from last night.
Richie had actually managed to pack his suitcase by the time Eddie came in from gardening, completely sweaty and ready to hop into the shower, but by then Richie was so thoroughly embarrassed about his body, from the number of clothes he tried on - most of them not making the cut - that Richie was too afraid to get into the shower with Eddie. Too afraid Eddie would see what Richie's finally come to realize about himself.
Their date was awkward to say the least - well, at least Richie was awkward. Richie had thought sushi would be a healthy alternative to soy drenched dumplings. It wasn't until a plump sushi roll was sitting in front of him that he realized his favorite type of sushi rolls are filled with cream cheese and deep fried. He spent most of dinner painstakingly picking out slivers of raw fish and rice, grain by grain, while avoiding Eddie's cocked eyebrow and deepening frown.
Later that night, as Eddie licked deep into his mouth, pulling the curls at the back of Richie's head to get a better angle, Richie momentarily forgot about his new found embarrassment. He was lost in the feel of Eddie's naked body on top of him. It wasn't until Eddie grabbed a thick slab of Richie's love handles, digging his nails into them, that all of the nasty thoughts, hiding at the back of his head, came screaming forward. Richie recoiled, pulling back from Eddie's open mouth. Before Eddie could ask, Richie bucked Eddie off, rolling them both onto their sides so Eddie was facing away from him. Richie encompassed Eddie from behind, keeping him locked in place, even as he slid into him. Richie only managed to cum from solely focusing on Eddie's taught muscles instead of his own rolling fat.
Richie knows Eddie's suspicious. Eddie knows him all too well. He just hopes Eddie doesn't bring it up until they're back from their trip.
"Excuse me?" a small voice says, breaking through Richie's thoughts.
"Huh?" Richie shakes his head, coming out to find a young teenage boy standing in front of him, awkwardly shuffling side to side. "Oh - huh - hi."
"Ummm...I'm sorry to bother you, but - huh - are you Richie Tozier?" The boy squeeks.
"Oh - huh - yeah. Yeah, I am," Richie says, lost for words. It still surprises him when people approach him, that he's famous enough to get recognized in the middle of the most mundane places. He never knows what to say to them, still taken back by the fact that people think he's actually funny. It's not like this didn't happen when he was doing his old material, but these conversations are on a whole different level.
"Oh, well - huh -" The boy says, slightly shaking. "I just - huuh - I just wanted to say that I really loved your Netflix special."
"Oh, well, thank you," Richie smiles, already knowing where this is going.
"It was really brave of you to - huuuh - come out like that. I - huuuh - I actually just came out to my parents because of it. So I - huh - just wanted to say thank you and to let you know how much I admire you. So - huuh - yeah."
"Oh, well, thank you. That - huh - that means a lot. Really. Do you want an autograph? I'm - huh - I'm not really looking my best for a photograph, you know?"
"Oh! Yes! That - huh - would be awesome!" The boy quickly scrambles for his backpack, pulling out a wrinkled artbook. With shaking hands he hands Richie the artbook along with a fine tip sharpie.
"What's your name?" Richie asks, popping the cap of the sharpie.
"Aiden," the boy whispers.
"Aiden," Richie repeats, concentrating on making his handwriting somewhat legible. He scribbles next to a watercolor painting of a darky starry sky - 'To my friend, Aiden. Cool art. Your friend, Richie.'
He hands the open book back to Aiden, the sharpie slotted into the valley between the two pages. With a delicate touch Aiden gapes down, his eyes wide as he reads Richie's message.
"Wow!" the boy whispers reverently. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" Aiden gasps, looking at Richie with wet eyes.
"Of course," Richie tries to swallow the thing lodged in his throat. "It was nice to meet you, Aiden."
"Huh - yeah, you too," Aiden says, walking backward, still staring down. "Thanks - huh - thanks again," he says hurriedly. With a smile, he turns, running directly into Eddie who's holding a tray of drinks and bags of food.
"Woooaaah!" Eddie screams, his body jerking to the side to balance the toppling drinks, managing to save them in time.
"Oh my gosh!" Aiden screams, clutching his treasure to his chest. "I'm so sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He scrambles away, cheeks stained red.
Eddie shakes his head, his eyes bugging out as he sits next to Richie. "God, it still freaks me out that complete strangers know my name." He hands Richie a large coffee and a crumpled bag. "They were out of bananas so I got you some banana nut bread."
"Thanks," Richie takes a long gulp of coffee. "Well, you were a big part of my show. And the paparazzi just love taking pictures of us." He tears a piece of bread, silenting thanking the universe for the lack of bananas at this small ass airport.
"Yeah," Eddie chuckles, "They love us until we start flipping them off." He smiles as he leans into Richie's side, slotting his arm through Richie's. After taking a quick sip of his latte, he leans his head on Richie's shoulder, his body relaxing into him.
"Well, it is our signature move, babe," Richie says, placing a soft kiss to Eddie's head.
/
The stark white walls and floor of the hotel, obviously meant to impress and instill a sense of calmness, assault Richie the moment they walk into the hushed, dimly lit lobby. The walls - pristine white, clad in thin veined marble - do nothing but reflect both sound and light, further adding to the pain swelling in Richie's head.
He feels hungover - his whole body aches, his head is killing him, and he can feel his stomach shriveling, practically collapsing in on itself. He wouldn't describe himself as short tempered, but the petite lady with horn rimmed glasses in front of him in line at the reception desk is really testing his patience. She's spent the last ten minutes complaining about how the view from her room is half obstructed by a brick wall. It's taking everything in his will power to keep his growing frustration and anger in check. Probably the only thing keeping him in place is Eddie, who's rubbing small circles into his lower back.
Tapping his foot, trying to get out some energy, he daydreams about stuffing a Chicago style pizza in his face and then falling, face first, into their plush hotel bed to take a much needed long afternoon nap, curling into Eddie's back the entire time. Even though he's physically exhausted, he knows he has enough will power left to forgo the pizza, but the nap is a necessity. They're meeting up with the other Losers later that evening for Bev & Ben's combined bachelor/bachelorette party.
With their hotel key finally in hand, they make their way to the shiney elevator doors, both of them eager to get to their room to wash away the grim from being on an airplane.
"Richie! Eddie!" a deep voice yells across the expanse of the lobby.
They both turn, catching sight of Mike - his hair longer than usual, slightly tussled; a beard, finely trimmed, with a few white hairs sprinkled in - jogging across the lobby, his suitcase whining behind him.
"Mikey! My man!" Richie yells, throwing up his arms, ready to pull Mike into a long, hard hug.
Mike's smile is wide, shining, as he gives Richie a bone crushing hug before quickly moving to Eddie. "It's so great to see you both! You two look great!"
"Right back at 'cha, homeschool," Richie says, slapping the back of his hand against Mike's arm. "Actually you look fuckin' fantastic! I thought you were driving across the country, not rock climbing every mountain you come across."
After leaving Derry Mike bought an old RV with his savings from living above the Derry Public Library practically his whole life. He has been zig-zagging his way across America - stopping at every city capital, visiting every National Park, and seeing all of the state monuments - to see everything he missed during his tenure as the Derry lighthouse keeper. He swears once he's done, he'll finally settle down, buy some beach front property in Florida. The Losers just roll their eyes, a knowing smile pulling at their lips.
Mike's journey has been slow. He started in California, after staying with Bill for a spell after their fight with Pennywise. In the last two and a half years of driving along, and branching off of Interstate 10, Mike has now made it to Jacksonville, FL where he's going to stay for a while before hitting the road to travel back West along the 20.
The main reason Mike's journey has been so slow is due to his need to write and document every single thing - the places he's been, the people he's met, the lost history he's unearthed. He gets caught up in the history of the towns where he has decided to park his RV. He spends days going to the local library, digging up newspapers, sniffing out interesting and unique stories to get an idea of what made the town what it is today. He dines at the local hot spots, day after day, slowly getting to know the locals so it's not completely off putting when he asks to interview them, asking them to share their personal stories with him.
At night, Mike stays up late, writing down that day's adventure and organizing the countless photos he's taken. Only when he thinks he's dug up all he can does he pack up his RV and drive out of town, looking for his next destination.
Mike is one of the most active voices in the group chat, constantly updating the group on his travels. Informing them every single day when he's hitting the road on a long drive as well as when he's stopped for the night. The chat is filled with gorgeous, picturesques views and random birds Mike sends to Stan to have him identify the species.
When Richie saw Mike's daily check-in texts he always imagined Mike sitting behind a big steering wheel, singing along to music, driving by countless gas stations and roadside attractions until his legs cramped up on him, forcing him to stop for the night. He imagined it was a very sedentary life, driving during the day and then sitting and writing at night. Although, based on Mike's well toned arms he's been doing more than just driving and writing. It makes Richie feel like a lumpy bag of potatoes standing between Mike and Eddie.
Mike chuckles at Richie's comment. "I did a lot of swimming, a lot of hiking at Apalachicola," he says, walking inside the elevator with them.
"Yeah? Wrestle any crocs?" Richie jokes, hitting the button to their floor.
Mike lets out another bright laugh, hitting another button for his own floor. "Naw. Got to feed them though. They have a whole theme park for crocodiles and alligators in Florida! Did you know that?"
"Of course they fuckin' do," Richie snorts.
"Did you know you're more likely to die from falling from a ladder then being attacked by a crocodile?" Eddie adds as he watches the elevator dial slowly rise.
Richie laughs, "Of course you would fuckin' know that."
Eddie frowns, glaring at Richie. "Why the fuck wouldn't I know that? I used to be a risk analyst!"
"Oh, did you have a lot of crocs as clients?" Richie grins, knowing where this conversation is going.
"Well, first off, they wouldn't be the clients, they would be the risk! And second, it's actually really dangerous to work on a ladder! There were 35 deaths last year from ladder incidents alone!"
"Is that why you always hold my waist when I'm on the step stool? A whole two steps up in the air? Not like I'm complaining or anything."
"Well, knowing you, you would fall and hit your knee or something if I didn't"
By this point the sound of Mike's laughter has grown so loud it's drowning out Richie and Eddie's bickering.
"Oh my god, you guys," Mike laughs, behind his hand. "I've been with you for two minutes!"
"You should see us at home, Mikey," Richie says, grinning.
"I have a feeling I wouldn't want to," Mike says just as the elevator comes to a stop, a small chime sounding as the door opens to Mike's floor. "Well, I'll see you two lovebirds later!" Mike waves as he steps out, rolling his suitcase behind him, leaving the doors to close on Richie and Eddie still in the elevator.
Without missing a beat, Eddie snaps, "You love that I hold you while you're on that step stool."
Richie grins, his smile taking up his whole face. "You bet your cute ass I do." Kicking his suitcase to the side, he steps closer to Eddie.
Eddie's eyes flicker to Richie's lips. "You make a whole fuckin' production of it. Yelling through the house to let me know you're pulling out the step stool."
Richie leans closer, tilting his head to side, ghosting his mouth over Eddie's. "Safety first, my love," he says before pressing his lips to Eddie's.
Eddie surges forward, pressing his lips harder against Richie's before licking a long strip across Richie's lips. He pulls away as the elevator chimes, the door opening to their floor.
The soft sound of Eddie's chuckling, probably from Richie's expression, fills Richie's ears. As Eddie takes his hand to drag him down the hall it occurs to Richie that there might be time for other activities before dinner.
Richie's mind is still humming with ideas as Eddie comes to halt; Richie practically running into him from behind. Eddie chuckles again as he swipes their hotel key, opening the door to pull Richie inside.
"Oh," Eddie gasps, "This is nice!" He toes off his shoes, delicately placing them in the side closet before exploring the room.
"Yeah, it better fucking be," Richie says, uncerimonously toeing off his shoes and kicking them inside the closet. "I mean, it's the Ritz-Carlton. For the price we paid for it…" He trails off, not really caring how expensive it was.
The room is exceptionally nice though. It's large for a hotel room. A king size bed, piled high with a white fluffy comforter and half a dozen pillows, fills the center of the room. A small connecting room is filled with a small dining table, a desk, and a couch facing a TV. Both of the rooms have views overlooking the bay, the pristine blue of Lake Michigan expending out to the horizon.
"Richie!" Eddie yells from the bathroom. He pokes his head out, swiveling his head until he catches sight of Richie. "The shower is fucking huge!"
"Oh yeah? Shower for two?" Richie smirks deviously, mentally adjusting his earlier plans.
"Yeah," Eddie says, mirroring Richie's smirk. "Wanna take a shower with me, big guy?"
Richie gasps, but it's quiet. So quiet Eddie doesn't even hear him as he continues talking.
"We can then go to that pizza place you've been talking about nonstop. Giordanos? We have plenty of time before dinner. I think we can even get a nap in. Does that sound good?" Eddie looks up at Richie, his smile quickly transforming into a frown. "Hey, what is it? Rich?"
Richie shakes his head, trying to school his expression. "I - huh - you know, I'm really tired. I think I'm just gonna take a nap. You know how I hate getting up that early," Richie chuckles, although it comes out flat. "You can go ahead and shower though. I'll take one later."
"Oh - huh - ok. Are you sure you're not hungry? You didn't really eat much this morning." Eddie's brow is knotted in concern as he looks Richie up and down.
"Naw. I'm...I'm good. Go, take a shower, babe. I know how you need to get that airplane grime off of you."
"Uh, ok, if you're sure," Eddie says hesitantly as he pulls out his toiletry bag from his suitcase, his eyes never leaving Richie.
"Yeah, yeah. Go, babe, go. I'm gonna go pass out." Richie slowly begins unbuckling his pants, hoping Eddie will give in and close the door.
"Oh, okay," Eddie says, his frown growing deeper as he slowly steps back into the bathroom. He closes the door an inch at a time, giving Richie the opportunity to change his mind.
When the door finally clicks shut Richie lets out a long silent sigh. With his pants unbuckled, he sits back on the bed, placing his head in his hands.
"Fuck," he breathes out to the empty room.
/
"You have the envelope, right?" Richie asks, hitting the elevator button to the lobby.
He feels refreshed after taking a much needed shower, although his brain still feels like it's stuck in molasses. He wasn't able to fall asleep due to his internal voice picking and shredding any thought any thought that floated through his brian to shreds. He laid in bed, pretending to be asleep even when Eddie slipped into bed, curling up against Richie's back. He laid there the whole time starving - his empty stomach past the point of growling - just listening to Eddie's steady breathing until it was time to get up.
"Yup, right here," Eddie says, patting the right side of his grey blazer.
"Do you think they'll like it?" Richie says, fiddling with his rolled up shirt sleeves. It was one of the few nice shirts in his wardrobe that didn't feel like it was strangling him.
"You don't think they'll like a week's stay at a remote island resort off the coast of Panama?" One of Eddie's eyebrows quirks up to the point where it looks like it might fall off his face.
"No, no. I think they'll love it. It's just," Richie says, shrugging, "it just feels weird to give them an envelope. You know, it feels like it should be so much bigger. I mean, I know the gift itself is big, but it feels weird to be giving it to them in such a small package. I don't know," Richie twitches under Eddie's piercing gaze which has been boring into him since Richie got out of the shower.
Eddie shrugs nonchalantly, his eyebrow falling back down. "Well, I don't know what else to have gotten them. I mean, what kind of gift do you get for people who have enough money to buy a whole private island!?"
"Well, you never know. That could be Ben's wedding gift to Bev," Richie says, wondering idly what he should get Eddie for a wedding present.
'So presumptuous. You haven't even asked him yet. Do you actually think he'll say yes?'
Richie bites his lip, stifling a groan.
Eddie's laugh fills the elevator, slightly easing the pain in Richie's chest. "I'm sure Ben bought her a whole group of islands! One for every year he's loved her. He would totally do something like that."
"Yeah, what a sap," Richie mumbles, transfigured by the crinkles fanning Eddie's eyes.
A few hiccups escape Eddie's chest as his laughter dies down. After taking a few deep breaths Eddie glances at Richie. His eyes are soft around the edges but there's still a hardness to them, a part that's still searching, trying to peer into Richie. The hardness fades as they peer at each other, their smiles growing larger and larger.
Richie takes a step toward Eddie, but he's interrupted by the chime of the elevator. Their heads snap to the sliding doors which reveals Stan, dressed in pressed khaki pants and a striped button-up shirt.
Stan's eyes, which are locked on his phone, swing up, quickly taking them in before swinging back down to his quickly moving fingers. As realization sparks, his eyes snap up, his fingers pausing, hovering over his phone. A smile tugs at his lips.
"Honey," Stan says, his eyes locked on Eddie & Richie, "we'll need to wait for another elevator. This one's full."
Richie & Eddie flip Stan the middle finger, smirks lining both of their faces. Richie kicks a leg forward in front of the elevator door before it can close on them.
"Really?" a soft voice says off to the side. A petite blond steps into frame, next to Stan to peer inside the elevator. A smile spreads across Patty's face as she catches sight of the elevator's occupants. "Richie! Eddie!" she squeals, flinging her arms open as she runs into the elevator. "You two look so handsome!"
"Aww, thank you, Patty, my dear. You're looking gorgeous!" Richie says, giving her a hug. As she goes to give Eddie a hug, Richie pulls Stan into a bone crushing hug. "Stanny! Stan-the-Man! You look marvelous! What? No cardigan?"
"It's summer, Rich," Stan chuckles over his shoulder as he gives Eddie a hug.
Richie clicks his tongue. "Still. You don't look the same."
"Richie! Congratulations on your Emmy nominations! That's so exciting," Patty says, curling an arm through Stan's, hugging it to her side.
"Yeah, congrats, Rich," Stan says, smiling. "You better start writing your acceptance speech."
"SpeechES!" Patty corrects. "Got nominated for two Emmys!"
"Uh, thanks," Richie says, shuffling awkwardly from side to side. "It's nothing. Probably not even gonna win. I mean, you know, it's just an honor to be nominated."
'How do you think they're going to react when you don't win?'
"Nonsense!" Patty chuckles, batting a hand at Richie's humbleness. "Of course you're going to win. Your special was incredible, Richie. No one deserves it more than you."
The elevator door chimes, opening up onto the lobby, saving Richie from the conversation. A hand slips into Richie's palm as they walk out into the cool night air. He looks over to see Eddie smiling at him. Richie grips Eddie's hand, smiling back at him.
The walk to the restaurant, a block from their hotel, across from Lake Michigan is short. There is electricity filling the air from the thought of all seven of them - plus a few more - being together again. The last time all of them were together was two Christmas/Hanukkah's ago.
When they arrive at the restaurant - a crowded, modern italian restaurant - they're shown to a private room in the back. The first thing that catches Richie's eye is Bev's long, bright red hair and glowing smile, which only grows wider as she catches sight of the new arrivals.
"Welcome!" She screams over the other's laughter, raising a hand with a champagne glass to toast their arrival.
The others - Bill, Audra, Mike, Ben, & Bev - are already there. There are hugs and smiles all around as they greet each other, something that takes a fair amount of time, especially since their group has grown.
Once they're finally done, they sit down at the large circular table as more champagne glasses are handed around. Conversations are going left and right, across the table, and behind chairs. They're loud and a little rambunctious from the thrill of all of them being together again, but they settle down as the waiter starts circling the table, taking each of their orders.
"Wait, wait!" Mike says, quickly taking a sip of his champagne, some of it dripping down his chin in his haistness. "Are we saying that we're going to send the holidays together? LIke for real this time!?"
There are glances around the table, each of them waiting for someone to speak up. They were just discussing all of their plans for Thanksgiving and the holidays, and miraculously it seems like all of them are currently free for Christmas/Hanukkah.
"I mean," Stan jumps in, glancing at Patty, who gives him a small smile and a nod before he continues, "Patty and I are spending Thanksgiving with her family, and we spent last Hanukkah with mine. So I think we can manage it."
"Well, Ben and I don't have any plans," Bev says, taking Ben's hand, "and I think your mother would be okay if we didn't spend Christmas with her."
"Yeah, it should be fine," Ben says, a goofy smile spreading across his face as he squeezes Bev's hand. "We'll be with her for Thanksgiving. She'll understand if we have other plans for Christmas."
"Well, count me in!" Mike says. "I'm down to go anywhere!"
"Yeah, we're good too," Eddie adds. "Right, Rich?"
"Huh?" Richie says, blinking up from his menu. He's been listening but he's been a little distracted, scouring the menu trying to find a healthy meal he actually wants to eat. He's getting a little nervous as the waiter is getting closer and closer.. "Yeah, yeah! We're totally down," he says going back to the menu.
"Weeelll," Bill says, awkwardly scratching behind his head.
There is an outbreak of 'nos' & 'boos" from the other Losers, all of them frowning.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Bill yells, throwing his hands up in defense. "It's just we don't know what's going to happen with the film schedule!"
"We would love to join you, really!" Audra adds, pouting. "It would be much better than filming in the middle of nowhere in Canada. We just need to figure out what's going on."
"We'll try our best to make it to work," Bill adds sheepishly.
"Why don't you throw your writer and star actress weight around?" Ben says.
"Oh, well, you know I don't really have that much power-," Bill says before Audra jumps in.
"Don't worry. "I'll see what I can do," she adds with a wink.
Bev laughs, throwing her head back in delight. "Yeah, Audra! You show those boys!"
"Excuse me, sir," the waiter says to Richie, making him jump in his seat. "What can I get for you?"
"Huuuhhh," Richie drones. He has no idea what he should order. What he really wants is a nice big steak and a heaping pile of steak fries, but he knows that's the last thing he should order. His eyes frantically scan the menu, searching for something remotely healthy. His eyes finally land on something, but it's the last thing he wants. "Huh, I'll have a salad. Huh, this one," he says, pointing at the menu.
He hears Eddie sputter next to him.
"And, I'll have three fingers of whiskey," Richie quickly adds, hoping it will satisfy his grumbling stomach.
"Very good, sir," the waiver nods before moving down the table to Patty.
Richie slowly turns back to the group, who are still talking about their holiday plans. He keeps his eyes forward, mentally telling himself he's trying to focus on the conversation, when in reality he's avoiding Eddie's hard gaze.
"Well, we should go somewhere new!" Patty says.
"We should go camping!" Mike yells, smiling at the group.
"What!? For the holidays!?" Stan sputters, laughing at the thought.
"Well, we don't have to go somewhere cold...there are a lot of places that won't have snow." Mike says sheepishly.
"Wait, wait!" Richie jumps in, thankful for the opportunity. "Let me get this straight, Mikey. You want to go camping!? Like in the wilderness!?"
"Ok, ok. It's not the best idea for the holidays," Mike frowns. "Maybe we should save that for one of our summer vacations."
"Yeah, that sounds like a much better idea, Mike," Bev laughs, side hugging Mike, trying to dispel his embarrassment.
"Wait?" Richie says. "You're all actually down to go camping? I mean, obviously not for the holidays. But like in general? Really!?" He scans the faces around the table, doing a complete sweep of the table before landing on Eddie.
"What?" Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably under Richie's gaze. "I can go camping!" he yells defensively. "What!? Don't fucking look at me like that!"
"Reeeelllyy?" Richie grins, leaning toward Eddie. "You want to go camping? With all the bugs, all of the various creatures roaming around? No shower, no bathrooms-"
"Alright, alright!" Eddie screeches, throwing up his hands. "I don't want to go fucking camping! Okay!?"
The others breakout in laughter.
"Fuck all of you," Eddie frowns, taking a sip from his champagne. "You all can go camping and I'll stay in a five star hotel. See how you like that."
"Oohh! That sounds much better! Sign me up!" Richie wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders, squeezing him to his side.
"Oh, what makes you think you'll be joining me?" Eddie smirks, playfully flicking a finger under Richie's nose.
"What!? No, baby! Don't leave me out in the cold! Please! I'm sorry!" Richie nuzzles his nose into Eddie's cheek.
"Well, it wouldn't be the first time, I'm sure," Bill deadpans.
"Hey! Screw you, Bill!" Richie points a finger at Bill. "How many times have you had to sleep in your trailer, huh?"
"Okay! Okay!" Stan yells. "No camping! At least not for the holidays."
"Well, I agree with Patty. We should go somewhere new," Bev adds, laughing.
"Hey, Rich," Ben jumps in, his chest still rumbling with laughter. "I've been meaning to say congratulations. How does it feel to be an Emmy nominated comedian?"
Rich chokes on his spit, but it goes unnoticed by the others as Mike jumps in.
"Yeah! Look at you! Nominated for two Emmys!"
"It's nothing. Really…" Richie fidgets in his seat, wishing everyone would stop staring at him. "I mean, probably not going to win or anything…"
'Of course you're not going to fucking win.'
"What!?" Ben gasps. "Don't say that! Your Netflix special was amazing! How could you not win!?"
"Yeah, our Trashmouth, nominated for an Emmy. First one of the Losers to be nominated for anything like that," Bill joins in.
"Well, I wish I could say I was the first one to have a Netflix special," Richie feigns annoyance, glad to shift the conversation away from him.
Ben, across the table, rolls his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god, Richie. You're still upset about that!?"
"Yes, still!" Richie grins, taking a sip of his newly presented whiskey. "You got a Netflix special before I did!"
'It's cause Ben is actually talented. Unlike you.'
"It wasn't a special," Ben moans. "It was one episode that was part of a series."
"It doesn't matter. It's the principal of the matter!"
"You know Bill and I watched that series," Audra adds.
Bill chuckles. "Yeah, you know we actually watched it before our reunion. I had the strangest feeling while we were watching it. It was an hour of deja vu."
"What?" Richie quips, "From finding out Haystack transformed into a team of hot soccer players?"
Screeching laughter breaks around the table, some snorting, some hitting the table from the force of their laughter. Richie's anxiety fades, enjoying the sound of ringing laughter. A smile starts to pull at his lips as something lightly wacks him on his arm.
"Owwww," Richie whines dramatically, grabbing his arm in mock pain. "Eddie! What!? You know I think you're the handsomest, cutest guy I know!" Richie coos, reaching over to pinch Eddie's cheek.
"Don't!" Eddie barks, grabbing Richie's hand midair, swinging it down to their sides to place it on his upper thigh. Richie digs his nails into Eddie's thigh, leaving it there as he turns back to the group.
"Don't worry, Rich," Ben says, having recovered from his embarrassment. "I'm sure you'll get another special. That'll make us two to one."
'Never gonna happen.'
"Naaaw. I wouldn't bet on it," Richie mumbles into his whiskey before taking a sip, enjoying the burn as it goes down. Eddie shifts underneath his hand, putting his hand on top of Richie's to entwine their fingers. Richie breathes into his glass, taking solace in the weight of Eddie next to him before he gulps more down.
"Oh my god, you guys! You'll never guess what I just found out!" Mike jumps in, "I recently got a call from one of my old librarian friends from Derry. They told me that the ol' Kissing Bridge is gonna get torn down. Gonna be replaced."
The words 'Kissing Bridge' and 'torn down' ring through Richie's head, causing his throat to collapse in on itself, bringing on a coughing fit. A small, firm weight lightly pats his back and then a glass of water is placed in front of him.
"Take a drink, Rich," Eddie says, rubbing small circles into his back.
With coughs still racking his chest, Richie grabs the glass, gulping it down. As his coughing fit fades he begins to hear the conversation going on around the table.
"What!? Oh my gosh, all of that history. Just erased," Ben says.
"No kidding," Bill says. "By the time I left Derry I don't think there was a bare spot on that bridge. There were so many carvings."
"Yeah, I guess that means there will be a whole new bridge for kids to carve into," Stan adds.
"Oh my god, Ben!" Bev yelps, grabbing Ben's shoulder. "You should have your company build the new bridge!"
"Oh - Huh-" Ben says.
"That would be perfect!" Mike says, clapping his hands. "You could name it 'The Losers' bridge!"
"Yeah, that'll really make people want to carve their initials into it," Stan chuckles.
This whole conversation is muffled in Richie's ears, like he's hearing it under water. The room is spinning. He feels light headed. He might throw up. He takes another gulp of whiskey to settle his stomach.
"Yeah, come on, Ben!" Bill says. "You gotta do it! Leave some Loser legacy in Derry."
"Okay! Okay!" Ben relents, holding his hands up in defeat. "I'll do it! I'll do it! Man, you guys are rough."
"Yes!" Mike hollars, punching his fist into the air in celebration. The other laugh and cheer, raising their glasses.
"To the Losers Club!" Bill says, raising his wine glass.
Richie raises his glass to join the others.
"To the Losers!" they all yell, clinking their glasses before throwing back their drinks.
"To Ben & Bev!" Richie yells, raising his glass again.
"To Ben & Bev!" the others yell, clinking and drinking all over again. This time Richie drains his glass then signals the waiter for another one.
More drinks are handed around and light banter goes around until their dinner arrives. A large green bowl filled with an assortment of other colors is placed in front Richie. He gulps another mouthful of whiskey, frowning down at his healthy meal. A savory aroma fills his nose; he glances over to lay eyes on Eddie's shrimp and linguine filled bowl.
"Want some?" Eddie smirks, catching sight of Richie's gaze.
"What? No, no," Richie says, batting away Eddie's offer. "I'm totally good with my…my...," Richie trails off, trying to find another word except-
"Rabbit food?" Eddie chuckles, although Richie can see a hard questioning gaze behind the twinkle in Eddie's eye. He ignores it in favor of taking another gulp of whiskey.
"Mhm. Yes. Delicious, delicious rabbit food," Richie says, stabbing his fork into his salad and shoving it in his mouth. The taste is bright and fresh, but not satisfying. He thinks even if he manages to eat the whole bowl there will still be a gaping hole in his stomach.
He chews, overly working his jaw, staring defiantly at Eddie. While he meant it to be playful, Eddie's not smiling anymore. He's frowning, the questioning gaze in his eyes burning bright. Richie shifts his gaze, taking another sip of whiskey to wash down the earthy salad.
He turns his focus to the conversation going on at the table about Bill's upcoming book and the movie adaptation which both him and Audra are working on. Richie listens, pushing lettuce around his plate, as he favors his whiskey, which gets replenished a number of times.
Later in the evening, when the table is full of empty champagne and wine bottles, the Losers have broken away from their seats at the table, having moved around to form small clusters - Patty, who is sitting on Stan's lap, is talking to Bill and Audra; Eddie & Bev are talking with Mike about his latest trip, Mike flipping through photos on his phone; Richie & Ben are sitting at the private bar in their room.
It still feels like there's a gaping hole in Richie's stomach as he did nothing but stab and mix his salad. He feels better though, more at ease as the anxious voice in his head has gotten quieter and quieter.
Richie and Ben clink their shot glasses together, both of them slinging them back.
"Wooo!" Richie yells, shaking his head at the sharp burn going down his throat. "Good Sir!" Richie yells, raising two fingers to get the bartender's attention, "Another round!"
"No, no!" Ben coughs, shaking his head. "I can't!"
"What!? Haystack! Come on! Another round! The first one was for Bev. This next one's for you!" Rich cries, grabbing the newly poured glasses to slide one over to Ben. "To your weddin'!" Richie slurs, raising his glass to toast with Ben.
Ben gasps, shaking his head after shooting back his drink. "Ok, ok! I'm good, I'm good," Ben wheezes, pushing his glass away.
"Ben," Richie whispers, leaning forward on his bar stool, having to grip the bottom of his seat to keep his balance, "You gotta tell me. Yot gotta tell me, man...what's it like? I need - to - KNOW!"
Ben cocks his head. "What's what like?"
"Being married," Richie hisses, as if it was obvious.
Ben barks out a laugh. "Well I'm not exactly married yet. Can I tell you in two days?"
Waving his hands erratically, Richie shakes his head, "No, no. I meant-," he growls in annoyance, snapping his fingers, biting his lips in frustration, "what's the other thing?"
"Engaged?" Ben laughs.
"Yes!" Richie shrieks, slamming his hand onto the bar. "Engaged!"
"You want to know what's it like to be engaged?"
"Mhhm," Richie hums, taking a sloppy sip of his beer.
"Oh, well…" Bens says, his gaze falling on Bev, who's sitting between Eddie & Mike, laughing at something one of them just said. His gaze is steady, glowing with warmth and love. He keeps his eyes locked on her as he talks. "It's not much different than dating to be honest. You do all of the things you did before - go on romantic dates, stay at home and cuddle on the couch, run errands on the weekend. I mean, nevermind you have a big wedding to plan - which is a big pain in the ass, let me tell you - but it's the same, but at the same time it's not."
"Wow," Richie mumbles, his own gaze locked onto Eddie. "Not very helpful, haystack."
Ben shakes his head, turning back to Richie. "It's the same cause...the bond you have...the love you have for each other is still there, but it's...stronger? More intense?" He shakes his head, seemingly displeased with his own words. "It's like your love...this burning ember inside of you, grows hotter and hotter, getting ready to transform, to forge your love into something unbreakable and resilient.
"Holy shit, haystack. You should have been the writer."
"Naw," Ben says with burning cheeks, "Bill's the writer. I just have a poet's heart. Or at least that's what Bev says."
"Well, if that's what being engaged is liked you gotta tell me what being married is like."
"Why do you wanna know?" Ben smirks, glancing at Richie.
Richie gulps, turning away from Ben's questioning gaze to slurp another mouthful of beer. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he shrugs his shoulders, stuttering, "No...no reason."
"Ok, if you say so," Ben shrugs, his smirk growing bigger.
Richie licks his lips. Staring into his beer he feels his stomach twist into a knot. He feels queasy with the thought of it - being engaged, being married. Are they ready for that? Are they ready for that kind of commitment? Would Eddie even agree to marry him? Him? A pathetic excuse of a man. He's never had anything as solid as a ring on his finger. The only things he's ever had, that's been proof of his love for Eddie is-
"Ben," Richie says.
"Yeah?"
"I need to ask you a favor."
"Sure. Anything," Ben says.
"I - wait - anything?" Richie asks. "Just like that?"
"What? Are you going to ask me to name one of my buildings after you? Cause I have to say, I have to name one after Bev first, man."
"The Beverly? Huh. That has a nice ring to it," Richie muses, only to shake his head. "No, that's - that's not what I wanted to ask."
"Oh, ok. Shoot."
"The Kissing Bridge-"
"In Derry?"
"What other Kissing Bridge do you know of? Yes, the one in Derry!"
"Ok! Ok!"
"I need you to get me something. Or I should say I need you to bring me back something. You see…" Richie trails off, preparing himself to tell this story, a story he's only ever told Eddie.
"You want me to get your carving?" Ben shoots back.
Richie yerks, spills some of his beer. "How - how da fuck do you know that!? I - I've only ever told Eddie about that."
"Well, I mean...the carving was your phone screen saver for like a year. How could I not recognize it as the Kissing Bridge?" Ben states, as if it was obvious. "And I mean, I obviously thought the same thing - I mean, about getting my carving."
"Your carving? Wait. Nevermind. Of course, you carved into the Kissing Bridge. What was it? B+B?" Richie snides.
"With a heart around it," Ben mumbles, blushing.
"Of fucking course," Richie sighs. "We're just a buncha saps aren't we, Benny?"
"Yup. Just two hopeless romantics," Ben chuckles, smiling at Richie.
Throwing his head back in laughter, Richie picks up his beer, "Hey, I can cheer to that. To us hopeless romantics," he proclaims, sliding his glass over to clink it with Ben's beer.
After they both drink, Richie's gaze turns serious. "So you'll do it?"
"Mhm?" Ben hums, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Oh! Your carving! Of course, man. Don't worry. I got it."
Relaxing, Richie slumps further into his seat. "Thanks, Ben."
"Of course, Richie."
"Hey! Let's have another round!" Richie blurts out, raising his hand to signal the bartender again. "Let's toast to both of our sappy asses."
"Oh, no. No, I don't think that's a good idea, Rich," Ben moans with nervous eyes.
"Come ON! Just one more round," Richie cajoles. He leans closer to Ben, so much so he's on the edge of his stool. Just when he's about to slip off two arms wrap around his waist, pulling him back.
Eddie props his head on Richie's shoulder. "What are you two doing over here?"
"Nothing," Ben breathes out, relief showing on his face. "Just talking about the wedding."
"Oh yeah?" Eddie says as he unwinds his arms from Richie's chest. He walks in front of Richie and then shuffles backward, forcing Richie to spread his legs until he's leaning back into Richie, practically sitting in his lap. "When is your mom showing up?" Eddie asks, reaching over to grab one of the shot glasses, quickly shooting it back. Without missing a beat he reaches for the other one, shooting that back too. "I haven't seen her since I left Derry."
Richie winds his arms around Eddie's waist, hugging Eddie's warm body to his chest. He places his head in the crook of Eddie's shoulder, at the base of his neck breathing in his scent. He feels Eddie place a hand on top one of his, squeezing it slightly.
"Yeah, she's excited to see all of you guys too! She didn't believe me when I said all of you would be at the wedding!"
"I bet," Eddie chuckles. "Hey, did Richie show you our finished clubhouse?" Eddie pulls out his phone, handing it over to Ben.
"What!? No!" Ben half screams, aglow with curiosity as he takes the phone from Eddie. "How did the renovation of the movie room go? Did your GC build it like I thought they would?"
The rest of the conversation is muted in Richie's ears as he focuses on Eddie - the smell of him, the warmth of him, his voice. Closing his eyes, Richie drifts off into a hazy darkness, content to just listen to the sound of Ben & Eddie talking.
/
The next thing Richie knows, he's outside, walking along the street. The cold breeze from the lake licks his face, bringing all of his senses back online. The first thing he notices is that he's holding hands with someone. Following the line of the hand all the way up the arm, he finds Eddie.
The second thing he notices is that the other Losers are there too. All of them are there walking in front of Eddie and Richie, each in their own little group - Ben & Bev, Patty & Stan, Bill & Audra, & Mike. They're all walking - half stumbling, really - away from the restaurant. To where, Richie doesn't know.
"Hey guys!" Eddie yells, grabbing the attention of the other Losers. "We're going to take a walk. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
The others wave to them as they stumble their way down the street.
"Wha-" Richie starts to ask before Eddie twists on his feet, tugging Richie along back down the way they came.
Richie dutifully walks beside Eddie, unsure of where they're going. The walk is slow as there's some stumbling on Richie's part and the fact that he needs to rely on Eddie to keep him on his feet.
"Eddss," Richie slurs, "I need to-", a hiccup racks his chest, "I need to sit dooowwnn." The bright neon street signs and the loud car horns strike through Richie's head like a bolt of lighting.
"It's ok," Eddie says, steadily pulling Richie along. "We're almost there."
"Whe-," another hiccup, "Wheerre?"
Eddie doesn't answer, he just keeps tugging Richie, stopping every now and then to pause at a walk sign. Finally they come to a stop underneath a bright glowing neon sign.
A combination of excitement and dread fill Riche once he realizes where they are. "Uuuhhh," Richie drones, shaking his head as Eddie pulls him through the front door. The heavy aroma of tomato sauce and cheese fill his nose; his dormant stomach roaring back to life.
As a waiter guides them through the restaurant they pass by table after table, each of them have a pizza - inches thick with oozing cheese bubbling on the top - sitting in the center. Richie bites his lip, moaning from the amora that seems to have made its way into his blood.
Richie's head spins as he sits down. WIth his head still swimming, Eddie orders and before Richie can even ask what is happening Eddie turns to him with a hard piercing stare.
With his telltale notch between his eyebrows, Eddie asks, "Ok. What is going on?"
"Uhh," Richie blinks, trying to feign innocence. "What - huuuh - what are you talking about?"
"Richie, please." There is a slight desperation to Eddie's voice, which cuts right through Richie. "You've been acting strange since yesterday."
"I don't-"
"Don't say you don't know what I'm talking about!" Eddies snaps.
Richie gapes at him.
"You've been acting strange since your meeting with Liam," Eddie continues, his frown growing deeper and deeper. "You didn't want to shower with me...which was weird, but I just thought you were a little distracted - worried about what happened during your meeting and if you were going to get the SNL thing. But then you just picked at your sushi. I literally watched you pick it apart, piece by piece. I didn't know what the fuck was happening, but again Ilet it go. I thought I could bring you out of it - out of your head - when we were in bed…" Eddie hesitates, shifting his eyes around to make sure no one was listening, "but you were still so distant...as if you weren't even there with me."
"Again, I thought you would come out of it this morning. That you would have slept it off, but then you barely ate anything for breakfast. You asked for a fucking banana, which is just strange for you when you could have a breakfast burrito. You didn't want to take a shower with me at the hotel. That's two times in a row! And then you ordered a fuckin' salad for dinner and then drank your weight in whiskey all night. And, I just," Eddie pauses, taking a deep breath, "I'm not letting this go on any longer. I want to know what's going on. I'm...I'm worried about you," Eddie sighs, looking at him with pleading eyes.
And just like that, Richie's heart breaks. He didn't mean to worry Eddie. He just didn't know how to have this conversation. Honestly, he doesn't think he's drunk enough or sober enough for this conversation, but he'll try. He'll try for Eddie.
Grabbing his water glass, Richie gulps it down, draining half the glass in one go. Some of it dribbles down his chin, but he ignores it as he turns back to Eddie.
"Eds - Eddie," Richie sobs, the words getting caught in his throat from the wave of guilt rolling over him.
Eddie reaches over the table, grabbing Ricihe's hand. "Rich," Eddie says softly, "What is it? You can tell me. I want to help. Come on. What is it, big guy?"
Richie gasps, his hand twitching so hard it rips out of Eddie's grasp.
Eddie's mouth drops, surprised. "Rich-"
"That's just it, Eds. I'm - I'm big. I'm FAT," he spits. "Half of my clothes don't fuckin' fit anymore. I'm bursting out of them like a juicy fuckin' sausage. I'm...I'm just this fat, useless piece of shit." Sobs wrack through Richie's body as he stares at the white linen covered table, unable to look at Eddie.
"Everyone keeps congratulating me on my Emmy nominations, and they keep saying 'oh you're going to win, you're going to win," he mimics, his voice going higher in a poor imitation of their friends.
"But I'm not! I'm fuckin' not! I don't even know how I got nominated!" he rants, his voice gaining momentum the more and more he talks. "How am I supposed to face everyone when I don't win, huh? HUH!? Cause they're going to realize that I'm not worth anything. That I'm not worth it. Even Liam knows it. He brought in what's-his-name to replace me! He knows I'm not going to win, and that I'm just a hack."
"And, I - I'm sorry I was acting strange," Richie croaks, sobs now wracking his chest. "I - I didn't mean to worry you. I just...I just don't know what to do. I feel so fuckin' lost." He slumps further into his chair, breathless as streaks of tears roll down his hot and sweaty cheeks.
Only the dull roar of ambient conversation follows. Richie gulps, afraid to look at Eddie, to see the look of realization on his face.
"Rich-," Eddies whispers.
Before Eddie can continue a steaming pizza is placed in front of them. The aroma slaps Richie in the face, the shock of it almost knocking him over. Richie looks up from the pizza to find Eddie dutifully cutting up the pizza. He slides a slice toward Richie.
"Eat," Eddie says with a soft look in his eyes.
Richie pauses, looking between the pizza and Eddie. Eddie smiles, nodding toward the pizza.
Richie realises a long wet sigh, taking up a fork and knife to cut into the pizza. He lets out a loud moan when the hot gooey cheese hits his tongue. He quickly cuts into the pizza for another bite, and before he knows it, the pizza is gone.
Eddie places his hand on Richie's arm, his thumb drawing circles. "Let's go back to the hotel. Yeah?"
A wet cry breaks out of Richie. "Can we cuddle?" He sniffles.
Eddie smiles wide, his eyes misty. "Of course, baby. Of course."
/
/
/
Author's Note: Sorry to end this on an angsty note. I'll be posting chapters 3-5 next Friday so please please check by then. I promise Loser shenanigans, excesses amounts of fluff, Ben & Ben's wedding, and some soft love making.
I didn't mean to make Richie kinda anorexic. Richie just doesn't know how to eat healthy, so instead, he just nibbles at small bits of food he thinks are healthy, which kinda results in him not really eating.
References & Research
I based Mikey's appearance off of an article from Parade on Isaiah Mustafa cause...damn.
/913269/mikebloom/isaiah-mustafa-everything-you-need-to-know/
The Apalachicola Mike mentions is the Apalachicola National Forest in Florida: . /recmain/apalachicola/recreation
The theme park Mike refers to is Gatorland:
Ben's Netflix special is a reference to Netflix's show Abstract: The Art of Design, particularly S1, Episode 4 focusing on architect Bjarke Ingels, who kinda looks like a grown up Ben.