Official Reddie Trash. 49% Reddie stanning, 49% general Bill Hader appreciation, 1% other IT content. Main: TrashcanMarvelFan. Writing Masterlist can be found under the tag tcrf writes.
“Dude, Bill, there’s something wrong with this app.”
“What do you mean?”
“It says this guy is online and active 0 feet from me.”
Eddie’s heart races. He quickly clears out of the app and shoves his phone in his pocket, moving from where he had been leaning against Richie’s back.
“Bill, look how hot he is. With the tattoos and the arms and the hip muscles. His username is nodice207 which means he’s from here but like... who?”
“It probably just made up someone to get your hopes up and piss you off. That’s what I would do if I were an app.”
“Bill, why doesn’t he have a face pic. Eds, come back. Would you- if you were so inclined- would you bang this guy?”
He doesn’t even look at the phone. He darts out of the room, followed quickly by Bev.
“Hey, Eds, the buttons on your shirt look like they need repairing. Want me to do it?”
“What are you talking about? My shirt is-”
Pop. Pop. Pop. Tattoos, specifically one that reads No Dice.
“What the fuck, Bev?”
“Hm. Weak thread. I’ll fix it.”
She smiles mischeviously and takes the shirt off the rest of the way and heads back to the living room, digging in her sewing kit for the matching thread.
“Is that Eddie’s shirt?”
“Yes, Richie, it is.”
“Why do you have Eddie’s shirt.”
“Needed repairs. Besides. I doubt he’ll be needing it much.”
“Shut the fuck UP, Bev!!”
“Does that mean there’s a shirtless Spaghetti running around here?”
Eddie takes off down the hallway at a run, attempting to lock himself in the bathroom, forgetting that they had all decided that bathroom doors were not to have locks after Stanley.
Richie follows in behind him.
“Damn, Eds, I never realized how muscular your back- Wait. What?”
“No, I wouldn’t fuck the guy in the pictures. And there’s no face because I did’t want to hear it from anyone if they found them.”
Richie reaches out and runs his fingers across Eddie’s chest quickly.
On the Importance of Caffeinating Before Interacting with Your Roommate (AKA the Love of Your Life) Richie x Eddie
Summary: Half-asleep Richie gives Eddie a kiss and tells him he loves him, then spends the day freaking out that Eddie hates him when Eddie texts Richie telling him they need to talk. What will happen?
Word Count: 1190
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety (but no anxiety attacks happen)
Author’s Note: Inspired by the following tweet by 1980SHORROR:
Richie is leaving for work n eddies like "forgetting something?" and richie gives him a kiss
'I meant your keys, but thanks.'
"Ughhhhh, I'm gonna kill Steve," Richie muttered to himself as he rolled out of bed at 7:30 AM. He had been in the middle of the most wonderful dream and could've cried when it was disturbed.
He pulled a pair of jeans and t-shirt out of his dresser, and got dressed. In the past, he would've just grabbed whatever was nearest to him on the floor and put them on, but ever since Eddie had moved in Richie had been a little more conscious about leaving his shit everywhere, even in his own bedroom.
After they had all survived Derry 2.0, the Losers had gone out to the Quarry, where Richie had come out as gay then cried as his friends had surrounded him with supportive hugs.
Later that evening at dinner, Eddie told the group that he had called his mom -- excuse Richie, his wife -- and told her he wanted a divorce, then once he and Richie were alone at the Townhouse, Eddie had shyly asked if he could possibly stay with Richie in L.A. while he got his shit together and figured out his next steps.
(What was Richie supposed to do, tell the love of his life NO?)
One week later, Eddie was following Richie into his much-too-large-for-one-person house in the Hollywood Hills.
No, fuck you, he had told Richie when Richie had refused to let Eddie pay rent. I'm at least covering half the utilities. In addition, Richie had agreed to let Eddie be in charge of grocery shopping and meal planning, lest Eddie have a heart attack over Richie's poor diet, and pay for a housekeeping service to come in and clean weekly.
They quickly acclimated to each other's quirks and habits ( just like when were were kids, Richie had thought) and the next thing they knew, a year had passed.
Within that year Richie had come out publicly, fired his writers, and had started performing his own material, while Eddie's divorce had been finalized and he was officially and permanently settled in California as Richie's roommate.
Eddie was usually up before Richie so it was no surprise to find him drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. He stood when he saw Richie, picking up a travel mug of coffee and following Richie into the living room.
Richie mumbled out a sleepy greeting.
Eddie chuckled and handed him the coffee. "Here, for the road. I even fixed it how you like it."
"Thanks," Richie replied, taking the mug and turning towards the door.
"Wait, aren't you forgetting something?" Eddie added, dangling Richie's keys from one finger.
"Oh, wait, right, sorry babe." Richie turned back towards Eddie, gave him a firm kiss on the lips and grabbed his keys, mumbling a 'mmm, love you Eds, see you tonight' on his way out the door to where his driver was waiting for him.
Richie was halfway to his meeting location when he realized what he had done.
A few seconds later, his phone lit up with a text.
Richie clutched his phone in his hand tightly. Oh fuck.
OH FUCK.
Okay, okay, play it off as a joke. It's a joke, right? Eddie's the housewife since he cooks and takes care of me. Not that I was still half asleep and so my stupid fucking brain gave me everything I ever wanted for a split second.
Finally, he sent a response.
Richie grew increasingly anxious throughout the day, imagining the worst-case scenarios. Eddie yelling at him for kissing him, being disgusted that Richie was in love with him, telling Richie that he could was straight but even if he wasn't that he could never love such a collossal fuck-up, that he was immediately moving out, back to New York, as far away from Richie as possible.
By the time Richie arrived home at 4 PM he was so nervous that he had contemplated either running off to Siberia or the nearest bar. Eddie wasn't due home for at least another hour -- he normally did their weekly grocery shopping after work on Fridays since he said the market wasn't as busy so he usually wasn't home until at least 6, but Richie figured if Eddie was moving out the grocery shopping would be the last thing on his mind.
At least I'll have time to change before Eddie gets home, he thought as he unlocked the door.
He walked into the living room and froze when he saw Eddie sitting on the couch, a glass of bourbon in front of him.
Richie looked around. He didn't see Eddie's luggage anywhere, but then again maybe it was already loaded in his car. "Uhh… You're home early."
Eddie blinked. "Oh, uh, yeah, I took today off. I had some stuff to think about."
Richie winced. Here it comes .
Eddie patted the seat next to him. "We should talk."
Richie reluctantly shuffled over to the sofa and sat down. "Look, Eds, I--"
Eddie quickly shook his head and looked up at Richie. "No, just-- please let me go first?"
Richie fell silent and slumped down, hitching one long leg up onto the couch and turning to face Eddie.
"Ok, so--" Eddie cut himself off. "Wait a second." He picked up the glass of bourbon.
Richie watched with fascination as Eddie tilted his neck up and drained the glass in one go. Might as well get one more look in, he thought.
Eddie set the glass down. "Okay, so about this morning. I know you were just joking when you kissed me and that it didn't mean anything to you but it meant something to me and--"
It meant something to me too, Eds.
"--I can't keep pretending like I don't have feelings for you--"
Wait, what?
"--especially after you told me you loved me--"
But I DO.
"--because I love you, I'm in love with you, Richie, and-- mmph."
Richie pulled Eddie in for a kiss, relishing in the little sigh Eddie made as he relaxed against Richie.
"Eds, baby, I love you so much," Richie murmured against Eddie's lips as they slotted together. "Wanna be with you forever."
"Fuck, Richie." Eddie pulled away from Richie. "Do you mean it?"
"You're it for me, babe," Richie replied honestly. "Ever since we were kids. You and your stupid little fanny pack and those fucking red shorts and that inhaler. I thought about kissing you breathless so many times that I developed a fucking Pavlovian response to you having to use the fucking thing."
Eddie's mouth tilted up in a grin. "I used to imagine other ways to shut you up besides 'beep-beep'ing you, and none of them were very G-rated."
"Well, you can certainly 'beep-beep' me all you want now, sugar," Richie said, waggling his eyebrows.
Eddie leaned in and gave Richie another long, slow kiss. "Maybe after dinner." He got up and reached out a hand to help Richie up.
"Oh, so what's on the menu for tonight?"
Eddie quirked an eyebrow. "Spaghetti," he said as he headed towards the kitchen.
Richie nearly tripped over himself following after Eddie.
Pls pls pls write a part two for the pancakes prompt
Read part 1 here
Eddie was in hell. Sure it was a gorgeous hell, with a lake and hammock but it was still hell. Being trapped in the small cabin with Richie was easy- too easy. It was too tempting to lean into the taller man as he slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders or let Richie crowd his space as he cooked dinner. Everything about Richie invited Eddie to get closer and linger- and that was exactly the problem. Eddie was supposed to be here for work, not pleasure. He was sure that his boss wouldn’t approve of the two of them going swimming in their underwear or cuddling under a blanket as they watched a movie but he ignored it, too caught up in Richie’s smile and laugh.
But nothing was worse than the nights.
“Will you sleep in the damn bed? It’s a king and you’re a midget. You’ll fit. I promise.” Richie said as Eddie laid down a barrier blanket on the lumpy couch.
He sighed, not wanting to have this argument again. He understood why Richie kept saying that but there was something important he didn’t know- mainly that Eddie was in love with the man and staying in a bed with him would make everything even worse and more obvious.
But anytime Richie even remotely shifted backwards, Eddie’s mouth chased his. He put a slick kiss on Richie’s mouth, before, by some unknown force within Eddie that hadn’t previously made itself present, biting his lower lip, dragging Richie’s mouth back to his. Richie groaned from somewhere deep in his chest. Eddie had his hands cupping his face, unsure where else to put them, as their tongues slipped together and Eddie actually shivered. Richie’s hand wormed in between Eddie and the door. He grabbed Eddie by something skirting the line between his back and his ass, and pulled him flush against himself. Eddie remembered where he was, his college’s dressing room, who he was with, Richie Tozier, and who he was in general, Eddie Kaspbrak. A boy who doesn’t make out with boys in locker rooms, for Christ’s sake.
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