Bedtime (reddie fluff oneshot)

bedtime

It was 11 o'clock at night, and Eddie was reading in the bed he shared with his husband, Richie. He sat on the left side in his linen pjs, with his reading glasses ever so slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose, obligating him to push them up every once in a while. It was quiet, just as he liked it, and he was deep into the words and metaphors that the pages contained, when he got distracted by hearing the bedroom door open. "Hey Eddie!!" Richie exclaimed, leaping onto the white sheets, quickly making his way over to his partner. "Richie, I love you, but I was reading, also don't jump on the bed, you'll break the springs in the mattress." Richie smiled. "I'm sorry my love, what are you reading?" Eddie closed the book over his finger, making sure to keep the page he was on. "Great Gatsby." Richie giggled. "Again?" Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes again, it's my favorite. I still pick up new things everytime i reread it." Richie grinned and laid back, he then shifted himself to where he was snuggled up to Eddie. His smile became contagious, and Eddie's face lit up too. He leaned down and placed a kiss onto Richie's chapped lips. "You're so gay." Eddie stated. "Only for you spaghetti." Eddie laughed and leaned over to put his book on his nightstand, but Richie stopped him halfway there. "Aren't you gonna read it to me?" Eddie was surprised. "But I'm already several chapters in dumbass, and you haven't read it." Richie shrugged. "I'll figure it out!" Eddie smiled and opened the book back up, he started over with the chapter he was reading to make it somewhat easier for Richie.

"On Sunday morning while church bells rang in the vil-

lages along shore the world and its mistress returned

to Gatsby's house and twinkled hilariously on his lawn.

'He's a bootlegger,' said the young ladies, moving some-

where between his cocktails and his flowers."

Richie looked up at Eddie's eyes, he watched as Eddie's eyes followed the ink on the off white pages.

'"One time he

killed a man who had found out that he was nephew to von

Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil. Reach me a

rose, honey, and pour me a last drop into that there crys-

tal glass.'"

Richie turned his eyes to Eddie's sharp jawline, and the stubble that covered it, as he had not shaved in a couple days.

"Once I wrote down on the empty spaces of a time-table

the names of those who came to Gatsby's house that sum-

mer. It is an old time-table now, disintegrating at its folds

and headed 'This schedule in effect July 5th, 1922.' But I

can still read the grey names and they will give you a bet-

ter impression than my generalities of those who accepted

Gatsby's hospitality and paid him the subtle tribute of

knowing nothing whatever about him."

Richie's eyelids grew heavier and heavier listening to Eddie's calming voice, once it became impossible to hold them open, he got closer to Eddie and held him tight, shutting his eyes for a long night's rest.

From East Egg, then, came the Chester Beckers and the

Leeches and a man named Bunsen whom I knew at Yale and

Doctor Webster Civet who was drowned last summer up in

Maine.

Eddie went on reading for a few minutes before he noticed Richie was not moving. "Rich?" He whispered. When there was no response, Eddie smiled, he enjoyed seeing Richie like this, he always had, he was so peaceful and endearing. Eddie continued reading to himself for the next hour before exhaustion consumed him as well. He put the book down after it became out of the question to keep his eyes open longer and kissed Richie lightly on the forehead. "I love you." He whispered, knowing he couldn't hear him. He came in closer to his husband's bigger body and pulled the blanket on top of both of them. He enjoyed little things like this.