Love Will Find A Way

5

"I want to change up your diet," is what Jake says as he places a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. Eddie looks up at him through his eyelashes. "Instead of eating dinner everyday, I want to try breakfast. Then you're still burning calories throughout the day, right?"

"Right," Eddie nods, sticking his spoon tentatively in the bowl and stirring it around for a second.

Jake is drying his hands on a towel as he smiles at Eddie from across the room. "I'm leaving in five minutes," he says, looking at Eddie meaningfully. Eddie nods again, standing up to go retrieve Jake's bag from upstairs for him like he always does. When Eddie returns, he's struggling to pull the gigantic suitcase behind his tiny body. He leaves it next to the door and waits for Jake. "Good boy," Jake says with a sinister smirk. "Now, remember the rules, yes?" Eddie nods. No parties, no friends, no cigarettes. The last one came from about a year ago when Eddie had been with Richie while he's been smoking. Jake had seen them and gone ballistic. Eddie's hand smoothly touches his left hip bone, where the scar Jake had later put there with a cigar of his very own was. Now, Jake rests a hand gently on Eddie's cheek, rubbing it. "Ice that," he says. Eddie nods.

When Eddie had gotten home yesterday, Jake hadn't been in a good mood. Eddie had forgotten to wash the dishes. His abs were still sore from the gut punch, and his cheek was still red from the slap.

Eddie felt a sort of giddy relief at watching Jake's car pull out of the driveway that morning, smiling until it was out of sight. He would have to the whole weekend to himself to do whatever he wanted. He could watch what he wanted to watch on TV. He could play his music too loud. He could -

He could answer the phone that was now ringing. He walks to the living room to pick up the blue phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello, this is Eddie Kaspbrak speaking."

"Yes, hello, this is the president of the United States calling to say you will be arrested from your house in approximately one hour. Hide the weapons, hide the drugs."

Eddie smiles and shifts his footing so he can have better access to the phone. "That was by far the worst voice I think you've ever done, Richie." He looks over at the door out of habit, his stomach jolting a small noise from the kitchen. Jake's not even home, he tells himself. No need to hype yourself up over nothing like you always do.

"Oh, come on!" Eddie can hear Richie smiling through the phone. "You know they're good, Eds. Admit it."

"I'll admit they're better than when we were kids. Still not very good, though." Then, as an afterthought, "And don't call me Eds."

"Alright, alright," Richie sighs over the phone, his voice very soft and comforting when he speaks again. "Is Jake still there?"

"No, he just left."

"Great!" Richie exclaims, and Eddie winces. Richie must be able to detect this, because he's correcting himself immediately. "I mean, not great that he's gone, obviously. Well, actually, yes, because I wouldn't be able to even come over if he was there, so. I mean, sorry you won't see him for a few days? I'm just excited to see you."

Eddie laughs at Richie's endearing rambling. "It's alright, Rich," he says in a soft voice - nowadays, he's always talking in a soft voice. "I know what you mean."

"You always understand me, Eddie Spaghetti. How did I get so lucky?"

"Don't call me that, either. It's worse."

"What the fuck am I supposed to call you, then? Eddie?"

"Preferably." Call me Eds, Richie. Or even Eddie Spaghetti. I love it when you call me that, even though I tell you not to. But for the love of God, please don't call me Eddie. That's what Jake calls me.