Because I'm Still in Love With You

Chapter 3

Eddie had now learned that Richie's music taste had not changed since highschool. It was still awful. And Eddie let him know. " What are you talking about Spaghetti head? This is the best song ever!"
"Whatever, I haven't heard this song in like twenty years." Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically.
"That's what makes it so good!" Richie yelled and turned the volume up so high that Eddie thought  his eardrums were going to bleed.
"Oh my god!" he laughed and turned the song down, but not too much to where Richie would be offended. They listen to songs of their childhood for a long portion of the drive until Eddie notices RIchie starting to yawn. "Hey Rich?"
"Yes sir?"
"You look tired, we should switch."
"Nah man, I'm good to keep driving."
"Richie you look like you're going to fall asleep at the wheel. I didn't survive a killer alien clown to die in a fucking car crash."
"Jesus Eddie, fine." Richie pulled over and got out of the driver's seat. Eddie adjusted the seat because his legs were nowhere near as long as Richie's. Richie chuckled to himself which earned a smack on the arm. "Hey, ouch! Lay off shortstack, I'm trying to get some shut eye here." Richie smiled as he closed his eyes and leaned the car seat down. He threw an arm over his eyes as Eddie turned to find one of Richie's quieter playlists. Richie had mentioned that they all used to be on tapes for his old walkman in his teenage years, but eventually put them all on his phone. Eddie wondered if he still had the tapes. As he was scrolling to find one he heard the familiar gentle snores coming from Richie. He smiled to himself and found a playlist labeled 'Il mio cuore appartiene agli spaghetti'. He had absolutely no idea what that meant, but he saw spaghetti and assumed Richie was referring to him. He clicked on the playlist only to hear a soft, slow song that he had never heard before. He put Richie's phone in the cup holder and pulled out onto the road. As the playlist went on, Eddie found himself hoping that Richie was talking about him when he wrote spaghetti in the title, just because of how nice these songs were. This wasn't the music usually RIchie listened to, at least not around Eddie.  He felt a pang of jealousy that Richie hadn't shared this with him before. The feeling left as quickly as it came, knowing that he also hadn't shared everything with Richie. He was so nervous when he told Richie that he was gay. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable and if he was he didn't show it in front of Eddie. Eddie knew that he definitely couldn't tell him about his feelings, he didn't want to lose Richie as a friend. Eddie could find a way to stand being in love with his best friend and now roommate. Eddie didn't even know if Richie liked men so it would be an even slimmer chance that his feelings were reciprocated.
Eddie had to change the playlist once he was starting to feel tired. Richie was still sleeping and Eddie didn't want to ask him to change again. He swapped the playlist for a much more upbeat one. The loud music ended up not only waking him up, but waking RIchie up as well. Eddie hadn't noticed until Richie grunted and moved his seat back to its original position. "Oh shit, sorry Rich," Eddie said to him apologetically, "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"It's all good man, we should change anyways, right?" Richie let out a large yawn and swore he heard Eddie mumble something about Richie's "disgusting dog breath".
"I'm good for now." Eddie replied honestly, the music helping a significant amount. 
"C'mon dude, might I remind you that you did actually crash your car."
"Oh fuck you, those were completely different circumstances!" Richie lets out a small laugh.
"I guess you're right." Richie pulls a grin that Eddie wants to slap off his stupid face. Eddie yawns and Richie throws a knowing glance, which in return gets a deadly glare. After almost an hour of driving, Eddie pulls into the nearest gas station. He silently gets out and walks in and Richie gets into the driver's seat. After a few minutes Eddie walks out with a small bag and a stern look. He gets into the passenger's side and puts the bag at his feet. He takes a small hand sanitizer bottle and squeezes an enormous glob onto his hand. Although once Richie starts thinking about it, he supposes it's a normal amount for Eddie. He then reaches down as Richie starts to pull out of the parking lot, pulls out a large crunch bar, and wordlessly plops it in Richie's lap. Richie's jaw opens stupidly as Eddie pulls his own snacks out. "What, dipshit?" Eddie says when he sees Richie's face.
"You know my favorite candy?" Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Of course I do, asshole. It was practically your whole diet in junior year." That shocked Richie even more. He didn't even remember that, but Eddie did. Richie knew that they all got their memories back, but even so, he still had some fuzzy memories. You know, like every normal adult.
"I can't believe you remembered." He said quietly. Then in an even quieter voice, he said, "I didn't even remember that." Eddie was grateful that the darkness of the night hid the flush that was forming from Richie. He awkwardly cleared his throat, then grabbed Richie's phone again to start up the music. Richie insisted on driving through the night and Eddie snacked, then slept for a bit. Richie enjoyed the peacefulness of it all.
The sun was starting to rise as Richie pulled into his driveway. He gently shook Eddie awake. "Hey, we're here." He grumbled and pulled himself out of the car. He opened the trunk and pulled Eddie's bags out, taking them to the front door. Eddie comes up behind him with their garbage bag. "Thanks, you didn't have to do that." Richie pulls his keys out to unlock the door.
"Sure I did." He finally gets the front door open and doesn't elaborate any further. Eddie follows silently as Richie leads him to the guest room. The house is nice, but Eddie can't help but feel that something's off. It's much too clean. Eddie then voices this to Richie. He laughs as he pushes the guest room door open. "I bet you were imagining some kind of pig sty weren't you. Well, I think you would like my room a little more than the rest of the house. It's pretty much the same as it was in highschool." No, Eddie does not flush at the idea of Richie basically inviting him to his room. He's forty years old for Christ's sake. Richie plops Eddie's bag onto the floor and Eddie asks faintly, "Can I see it right now?" Richie stares at him with wide eyes.
"Uh- yeah sure." He presses his lips together in a small smile before quickly turning to leave the room. Eddie follows Richie into his room. Richie's room brings back a flood of memories for Eddie. The two of them laying in Richie's bed, Eddie on his back and Richie on his stomach, reading comics. There's posters for movies that the Losers used to watch all the time at sleepovers and a couple of newer movies that Eddie doesn't recognize. There's different figurines on Richie's windowsill and dresser. Once again, Eddie only recognizes a few from their childhood. "Oh my god Chee, this is amazing." Richie blushes profusely. Eddie is too busy looking at everything he can to notice.
"It- It's just my room." He chuckles nervously as he rubs a hand across the back of his neck. Eddie spins around to face Richie.
"I know. But it just takes me back, you know?"
"Yeah, yeah I know. There was always a little part of me that never wanted to change it, I know it was the Losers now. I'm glad I never did."
"I'm glad too." Eddie smiles. "Well, I'm super tired, I think I'm gonna head to bed."
"For sure, me too." Eddie walks past Richie to go back to the guest room. Richie waits until he hears the click of Eddie's door shutting to pull out a box from under his bed. He pulls out a mixtape. He never knew what it meant before, but now he does. He doesn't know whether to be sad or happy about it. He rubs his thumb over the faded pen ink, 'Il mio cuore appartiene agli spaghetti'.
They both fall asleep fairly fast, both being exhausted from the road trip. Eddie, being Eddie, wakes up first. He rummages around in the kitchen to find some plastic wrap. Once he finally found some he went back into his room, then into the bathroom connected to it. He stripped down and began to cover his bandages with the plastic wrap, which was easier said than done. He turned the shower head on and waited for the water to heat up before stepping under the spray. He washed all the grime off of him and violently scrubbed his hair. Once he was done, he didn't bother putting a new shirt back on, he had to have Richie change his bandages once he woke up. He pulled on a pair of briefs and a pair of shorts. He walked over into the kitchen and looked in Richie's fridge. He decided to make himself an omelette and one for Richie, just in case. The eggs were in a pan and Eddie was shredding some cheese when Richie walked out from his room. Eddie thought he looked adorable all sleepy and in his soft sleep shirt and shorts. Richie looks up and blushes at Eddie's (almost) bare torso. "Well good morning sunshine!" Eddie snorted as Richie flipped him off. Richie was squinting, seeing as he wasn't wearing his glasses, as he rummaged around Eddie making himself a cup of coffee. "You want a cup?" Richie asked and Eddie felt his stomach curl as he heard Richie's gravely morning voice.
"Uh, yeah. Thank you." They continued in the kitchen, Richie understandably finishing before Eddie and sitting down at the small table. Eddie brought two plates over and placed one in front of Richie and the other in the seat next to him, where Richie set down his coffee. "Oh, thanks." Richie says, flustered, clearly not expecting a plate.
"No problem." Eddie smiles as he sits down to eat. They fall into an easy conversation, sharing memories and making jokes. Richie swoons at the domesticity of it all and little does he know that Eddie is feeling the same way.
Once they are nearing the end of their breakfast, Eddie asks, "Can you change my bandages after this?"
"Yeah, obviously." Richie smirks as he takes the dishes and loads them into the dishwasher. "Let's go into my bathroom, it's bigger than the guest one." Eddie grabs everything the hospital gave them from his bag and they make their way to Richie's bathroom, which is also attached to his room. Rich asshole, Eddie thinks to himself as he sits down on the toilet lid. He helps Richie unwrap the bandages around his chest and he sees the angry skin underneath. It makes Eddie sick looking at it. It's hideous. As Richie unscrews the cream for the scar from behind Eddie, he notices him shutting his eyes tightly. "Are you okay?" His voice was laced with concern.
"It's disgusting." His voice trembles, barely above a whisper.
"Definitely not the word I would use." Richie says with confidence. Eddie turns to look at Richie, bewildered. "I think it looks badass! You'll have guys throwing themselves at you with this sexy scar!"
"Shut the fuck up." Eddie says, but there's no bite behind it as a small smile forms on his face.
"I'm serious, man! Dudes dig scars."
"And you would know, how?" Richie fumbles a little bit, trying to come up with an excuse.
"Believe it or not I have some gay fans, even with all the bullshit I used to spew."
"I still don't know how your comedy career thrived, your ghost writers are total shit, man."
"Yeah, yeah I know. Here, hold out your hand." Eddie did as he was told and Richie placed a large glob of cream in his hand. "You get the front and I'll get the back." Eddie nods and they both rub the cream onto the scar. Richie rubs over a knot that was in Eddie's back and he hisses at the pressure. Without even thinking about it, Richie starts to knead the knot out. He pulls his hands away and asks, "Do you... want a massage?"
"You'd really do that? I thought I'd have to bribe you with something." Richie laughs and places his hands again on Eddie's back.
"Oh don't worry, I'll cash in a favor later."
"Hey," Eddie's eyes slip closed and his head tilts back as Richie's hands roam across his back. "I didn't agree to that."
"Hmm, you still would do it though." Richie challenges.
"You got me there." Eddie smiles and lets out a breath as Richie works on his aching shoulders. Richie works up and down his back and it takes everything in Eddie to suppress the moans threatening to slip out. He lets out a groan every now and then. Once Richie touches a particular spot, Eddie eventually lets out a low, quiet moan. Richie clears his throat and his hands leave Eddie. He whimpers at the lost touch. "It's ah- it's getting kind of late and we still have to mummify you." He jokes nervously. Eddie opens his eyes and raises his arms slightly. He helps Richie wrap the bandages around him, telling him if they're too tight or too loose. "I'm gonna head to bed, and I'm sure you're gonna wake up before me so you can get whatever you want from the kitchen again."
"Ok, thanks Richie."
"Sure, man." RIchie said with a tight lipped smile and walked out of the bathroom and climbed into his bed. Eddie walked out of the bathroom and passed Richie, who was on his phone.
"Night Rich." Eddie says in the doorway. Richie looks up and smiles.
"Night Eds."
"Don't call me that shit head." Eddie mumbles and walks towards his room. But only after he hears Richie chuckle lightly. Eddie walks down the hall, only a little ways, seeing as his room and Richie's are fairly close together. Eddie gets into his bed and under the covers. He messes around on his phone for a while, refusing to look at anything work or Myra related. After a few hours he shuts his phone off and tries to sleep. His mind keeps wandering. He can't stop thinking about Richie's hands. Large and calloused. Eddie noticed an acoustic guitar in the corner of his room, so he wasn't surprised at the state of Richie's fingers. God Richie's fingers. Thinking like this wasn't helping Eddie sleep. What it was doing was making him hard. Eddie thought about Richie's hands roaming across his back. The way his fingers danced on his neck, making his aches and pains go away and Eddie's erection grew. He dared to dip his hand under the waistband of his shorts and by proxy, his briefs. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts to stroke it slowly. He lets out a breathy sigh and pushes his shorts and briefs down for better access. His pumps quicken as he thinks of Richie, the feeling of his hands on him and trying to imagine them on other parts of his body. Precum leaks out of his tip and Eddie uses it to smear on his cock. Eddie hums and lets out a quiet whimper. He brings himself to an embarrassing climax. "Ahh, fuck!" Eddie said, not yelling, but not exactly whispering either. He cleans himself up and he can't help but feel slightly guilty. Richie heard Eddie cuss from his room, he must've just stubbed his toe or dropped something.
Eddie wakes up to Richie yelling his name. He's disoriented for a few moments before he remembers where he is. "Eddie! Eds, you're okay, man. Everything's okay." Eddie doesn't even realize he's crying until Richie is wiping tears from his cheeks. "You were screaming your head off, do you want to talk about it?" Eddie knows he is referring to the nightmare Eddie seemed to have.
"I don't even remember what it was about." Eddie holds his arms open and Richie takes the hint to hold him. Richie rubs his hands soothingly up and down Eddie's back as his sobs die down. "Hey Rich?" Eddie asks, his voice muffled where his face is pressed into Richie's neck.
"Yeah, Eds?"
"Remember when you had that nightmare at the motel? And we shared the bed?" Richie's face got incredibly hot. Richie's hands stilled on Eddie's back.
"Uh, yup. Do you wanna do that again?" Richie sniffed.
"If that's okay with you, and uh... is it alright if we go to your room? It just reminds me of back then, ya know?"
"Of course Eds, I get it." With that, they both make their way to Richie's room and Eddie immediately plops down on the bed. Richie smiles and climbs in after him. Eddie was already fading back into sleep and Richie was trying to not think about Eddie in his bed... again. He went through this once, he can do it again. He glanced over to make sure Eddie was asleep and gently turned his body towards him. He placed a hand on Eddie's chest. Feeling the slow rising and falling of his breathing, the slight raise of his bandages under his clothes. Richie fell asleep like that.
Just like the night at the motel, Eddie woke up first. And also just like the motel, Richie was cuddling him. This time, instead of Richie's arm slung around his hips, it was resting on his chest. Richie was fucking spooning him, and he couldn't help but feel sick. Not that he didn't want Richie to, it was that his hand was resting on the ugliest part of him. He wanted to shove his arm off, Richie would think his scar was ugly. Eddie was grateful for his bandages, but it was still a reminder for the hideous scar underneath. He couldn't help but feel this way when Richie was rubbing his scar with the cream. Eddie was embarrassed. Richie's stirring pulled Eddie out of his thoughts. It was harder this time to loose himself from Richie's grasp, but managed with some struggling. He walked back to his room to grab his clothes and walked into his bathroom. He took a long, hot shower, where he may or may not have jacked off, and walked into the living room. When Richie did eventually get up and start his "morning" routine, Eddie had already made breakfast and was trying to look at the monster that is his email inbox. Eddie was lucky enough that his work was easy to do from home, if he even still had a job at this point. Richie was never more grateful for his job. It was perfect for his... less than productive personality. He knew his manager Steve was going to kill him, but he didn't really want to worry about that right now. He also didn't want to stress Eddie with his questionable stability in his career. Eddie had his own job to worry about, his situation was, by far, worse than Richie's. Eddie's brow was furrowed in the way that Richie always adored, now learning that he still does adore it. He smiled at Eddie sitting on the couch with his laptop on his lap and he walked into the kitchen to get some coffee and eat the breakfast Eddie had made. He sipped on his almost too hot mug when he heard a long, deep sigh come from the living room. He walked into the living room and stuck his hand out to lean against the couch's arm rest. Eddie had his head in his hands and was taking long, deep breaths. Richie's heart ached. He knew it was extremely unrealistic to think Eddie could be happy all the time, but he hated seeing Eddie this stressed. Of course he always liked to rile him up, but that was their thing and Eddie always gave it right back. "Do you want me to make you some coffee? Unless you already had some?'' Richie asks him as he tries to remember if he saw another mug in the kitchen somewhere. Eddie's head snaps up, like he had no clue he wasn't alone anymore. "Oh um," he says timidly, "some coffee would be great, thanks." He gives Richie a soft smile and leans his head back on the couch cushions while closing his eyes. Richie goes back into the kitchen to make another mug, where he does actually find a coffee cup turned upside down in the sink. Richie smiles and lets out a sharp breath through his nose. He makes Eddie's coffee and goes back to the couch where Eddie hadn't moved from his spot. Richie sat thigh to thigh with Eddie and waited for him to lift his head to hand him his coffee. Eddie took the mug gratefully and took a long sip. Eddie let out a noise that could only be described as a moan. "Thank you so much, Rich." Richie willed himself not to flush and only nodded at him. Eddie took more sips and more deep breaths before looking back at his computer. Richie felt bad for him so he reached out to put his hand on Eddie's knee. He refused to acknowledge how intimate this gesture was and asked, "Hey, do you wanna take a break and watch a movie or something with me?"
"I'd love to Chee," Richie also refuses to acknowledge the way his stomach flips, the same way it did at the hospital, "but I just have so much shit to catch up on and I just-"
"Dude I know you woke up way earlier than me, and I know for damn sure that you haven't done anything but work this morning." Eddie sits in silence and Richie knows that he was right. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Eddie gives in and closes his laptop. Richie suddenly realizes just how close they were sitting and puts some space between them. Eddie, apparently not having any of it, leans into Richie's side and kicks his feet up on the couch. Richie blushes profusely and puts his arm along the back of the couch, behind Eddie's head while he looks through Netflix. Not much of their usual banter is happening and the silence is only broken when Eddie occasionally asks him about a movie. Richie thought that it should be more awkward, but he finds it strangely comforting. Richie and Eddie have always been super loud and performative, but having these nice moments of quiet between them have secretly always been his favorite. They eventually decide on what to watch, but Richie is just barely paying attention, more focused on the rise and fall of Eddie's chest as he breathes. The smell of Eddie was intoxicating, his shampoo that he made such a fuss about when seeing Richies poorer quality hygiene products. The movie plays out and Richie is tempted to lay his head on top of Eddies. He doesn't know why he's having such an internal struggle with this, they shared a bed twice. Oh god. They shared a fucking bed twice. Richie wants so desperately to just tell eddie how he feels, or even just that hes gay as well, but everytime he finds himself about to he always chickens out. Richie could not physically stand losing Eddie's friendship by some stupid feelings. He gets the same feeling he gets when he was carrying Eddie out of that damned house, he just got him back after thirty years and he can't lose him now. So, Richie would stay quiet. How long he will last, he had no idea.
Eddie had been working non-stop from home as he was getting transferred to his jobs LA branch while Richie was working on writing a new tour. Richie had had a very long and loud conversation over the phone with Steve, trying to explain what happened in a vague way which was easier said than done. Steve understandably had many questions none of which Richie had answers to. Well, he did, but none that he could voice to Steve without sounding absolutely crazy. In Richie's quest to try and tell Steve why he was gone for so long, he ended up shouting that he wanted to start writing his own material. Steve was dead silent and Richie thought for sure that he was going to quit right then and there. Then they started talking about what he was going to write, if he even could, and that's how Richie accidently came out to Steve. Steve's immediate response was, "Is this a bit?". That was usually the response Richie got when he tried to talk about serious topics in his life, so he tried to stop sharing those things all together. When Richie told Steve he wanted to write his new set about being gay, he flet his heart drop into his stomach. He just wanted to prove to Steve so bad that he could do this and that he could be serious about it. Steve had taken it far better than Richie had expected. Richie was terrified of someone finding out, yet he had just told someone and now they were having a business discussion about it. Richie felt... free. He had never felt like this before. He never knew the freedom of being out to someone, because any time he thought of telling someone, especially in college, he thought back to Henry Bowers and now more recently, the gay couple that had gotten attacked in Derry. Richie had almost forgotten that good people existed, but now he was reminded and that maybe he really could do this new tour. Baby steps though, coming out to millions of people was much more different than his manager. Richies conversation with Steve gave him a new goal, to come out to the Losers. Well, all of them besides Bev of course.