Do Not Fucking Touch Me // Reddie

Fifty Three

(Eddie's POV)

It had been so long since I had been able to fall asleep peacefully. It's something I took for granted when Richie was always around. I slept like a rock by his side. He made me feel safer than I ever was. When he left, I spent far too many nights staring at the wall, missing the warmth beside me. The empty space haunted me and kept me up at night. It didn't feel the same. It didn't feel right without him there. 

Luckily for me, I had him back. He was better than ever before too, and not just because he grew his hair out and I thought it looked cute.  He was in recovery, and I was so thankful for that. The mere sight of him suffering, dying, brought me immense amounts of pain I didn't know how to cope with. Because I loved him so much, and cared deeply about his wellbeing, I think his eating disorder took a greater toll on me than it did him. 

Waking up in the love of your life's arms is an unforgettable and indescribable sensation. I wanted to do it every morning for as long as we both lived. Knowing he was in love with me was crazy enough, but seeing his actions prove it blew my fucking mind. 

He leaned down and kissed my forehead as my eyes fluttered open. My heart jumped in my chest. 

"Good morning, sunshine," he smiled. 

I normally disliked his nicknames for me. Eds didn't sound right, at first, at least. I had gotten used to it since. Any way that he said my name worked for me now, because he sounded so sweet saying it. Sunshine was my favorite pet name of his. He usually said it in this context, as I was waking up or when we cuddled. It made my insides warm. 

"Good morning, baby," I said back. I yawned and pressed my eyes shut. 

He held my hand. "Stan called and asked if we'd come over and see everyone," he said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. 

"You look so cute when you're sleeping, I couldn't wake you." 

I blushed and rolled my eyes. I leaned my head to the side and looked up at him. He leaned down slowly after smirking and pressed his lips on mine. 

I felt an electric shock run through the neurons in my lips and shivers went down my spine. It really felt like that every time he kissed me. It was magic, pure real magic. 

"We should get going then, huh?" I asked. 

He nodded. "Bev's home. The whole gang's there, minus Bill of course."

I frowned. I missed Bill. He was a good friend to me, probably the best friend I had before Richie. 

"Alright, let's get going, then."

We ran outside and grabbed our bikes. It was finally warm enough to ride them again without the metal freezing against our skin. Richie and I raced block after block until we reached Stan's neighborhood.

Dropping our bikes at the sidewalk in front of his house, Richie stood tall and proud. 

"I win! Guess what that means?" he taunted.

I frowned. "You're the little spoon, yeah, yeah."

He stuck his chin in the air and gave a victory pose. He was getting quite athletic. He had to undergo a lot of extensive training and work out while at rehab, to fix his body image issues. Meanwhile, I was missing him, in my bed, alone. 

We walked up to the door and gave it the signature knock. We could hear the others inside in the living room, laughing with each other. A few moments later, Stan appeared at the door and swung it open for us.

"Hiya, guys!" he smiled. "Come on in!"

I remembered that Stan's mother went absolutely manic when shoes weren't taken off the moment we stepped in the house, so I quickly shed mine and placed them gently by the bench. Richie followed my lead, and Stan ran off to be back with the others. We turned to see them, all on the couch. 

Lucy, Stan's new girlfriend, was draped on his arm and sitting very close. Mike and Bev were talking about stories they each had from the long time they'd been apart. Ben walked out from the kitchen and sat down with them, holding a popsicle and licking at it. 

They all froze when they saw us, like statues, and turned their heads. It was a little awkward, but I could tell why the tension was there. They were all nervous around Richie, not me. He was in such a bad place before. It was sad, but they were just clueless how to react. They never saw it coming. 

I grabbed ahold of his hand as he gulped, staring back at everyone staring at him. I pulled his arm along and we walked into the room. He had nothing to be afraid of. They weren't judging him, they were his friends. They would understand. I just wasn't sure he understood that. 

We sat at the edge of the couch, just far enough away to give us some well needed personal space, but close enough as to not isolate ourselves. I was the first to speak, naturally. There were only a few times I saw Richie speechless, then being one. He looked almost embarrassed. I needed to fix it.

"Bev, how was your flight?" I asked casually. Richie stopped tensing up and relaxed his spinal chord. He slumped back in the cushions and I put a hand on his knee lovingly.

"Oh, uh... it was good, yeah, long, but good."

"Richie, how are you feeling?" Stan asked, untimely putting the attention back on my sweet boy. He looked pale and nauseous. 

He looked over at me and I watched as the color flushed back into his cheeks.

"I feel good."