𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 / 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

ᴠᴇɪɴᴛɪꜱᴇɪꜱ

The stereo is playing softly, the second verse to "Let it Be" drifting through the warm air and over to the bed, where Richie is curled up in a cocoon of thick, freshly-washed blankets. He inhales the scent, his eyes fixed on Eddie's back, shoulders bending and stretching as he sits perched on the edge of the mattress, bringing one knee up and tucking his foot in close to his thigh. Richie smiles, watching Eddie tie the long, clean laces of his chucks, a little wrinkle forming between his brows when he's finished. Richie knows that look- it's the "I don't wanna go to work" look that Eddie wears when he's especially exhausted.

Reaching out, Richie tugs on the bottom of his shirt and pouts, blinking innocently when Eddie's eyes flick over to him. "Come back," he whines, scratchy throat burning around the words. "Call out sick."

"I can't," Eddie says, voice lilting as his mouth opens up wide around a yawn. There's a hint of yearning in his voice that tells Richie he would consider it, if there was anyone else available to close at the library. "Mrs. Starrett is out helping her daughter again."

Though Richie is perfectly aware of this, it doesn't stop him from pushing himself up, kicking the blankets away and scooting across the bed, where he slides up against Eddie's back and slips his arms around his middle. "Make the mean one close," he whispers in Eddie's ear, nuzzling the warm skin just beneath his lobe. "I'm sick. You have to stay and take care of me."

A shiver runs through Eddie's frame, and he tips his head to the left, giving Richie plenty of room to press lingering little kisses down the line of his neck. "She's already there," Eddie breathes, sucking in a gasp when Richie moves his shirt collar aside and drags his teeth over his shoulder. "I have to go."

With a heavy, exaggerated sigh, Richie pulls Eddie closer to his body, unfolding his legs so they can drape on either side of Eddie's thighs, caging him in against his chest. He's been sick since yesterday at school, and all he wants is to keep basking in Eddie's care, ecstatic that he hasn't been sent away because he's contagious. But of course, Eddie- ever the responsible one- won't dare try to skip out on work, not when he's saving up for after graduation and pays for a portion of the groceries to stay in Bev's house. Richie suspects that Bev's aunt wouldn't care if he didn't, but he's not about to point that out.

"I'll try to hurry up," Eddie says, turning slightly in Richie's hold, his fingers lightly grazing over Richie's knuckles. "I won't do anything extra. I'll be home by, like, nine thirty I think."

It's a lot of long hours for Eddie to be working, considering that their homework load has only gotten worse. And Richie knows that Eddie needs all the help and time he can possibly get to complete it all, and he just can't see how working constantly isn't going to get in the way of that. He's been thinking about getting a job, though he knows if he tries to help Eddie out at all he'll only be shot down. Either way, he's been looking around for something, but he's not sure who the hell would hire him in this evil little town. He's pissed off most of the owners of the little shops around at least once in his lifetime.

"You work too hard," he murmurs, allowing his palms to move up and over Eddie's chest, where he curls his fingers in the fabric over Eddie's steadily beating heart. Leaning forward, he drops a quick peck on Eddie's cheek. "You're gonna burn out on me."

Eddie's weight falls back into him, and he lets out a heavy breath as Richie starts sucking a mark on the side of his neck. "I'm fine," he says, voice going smooth and sweet, eyes fluttering closed when Richie bites down gently. Eddie's breath comes out in a laugh. "You better stop that."

"Stop what?" Richie asks innocently, grinning as he moves one hand down to rest over Eddie's hip. He gives it a quick squeeze, and he pulls his lip between his teeth when Eddie reaches back and tugs on a handful of his hair. "I'm not doin' anything."