Reddie Oneshots

-64- Go to Sleep (1/2)

Just try. Try.

Richie squeezes his eyes shut again, hugging the comforter up to his ears to try and block out the darkness and the fear. It doesn't work; only makes him hotter, makes him clammy and uncomfortable. He curses his paranoia every night as he lies awake until his eyelids can't support themselves enough to stay open any longer at four in the morning, and every morning when he "wakes up" from a sleep that isn't really sleep. He hates what that stupid clown has done to his brain, fried it so hard he can't sleep alone at night; so deep that—all these years after—he's still having constant nightmares.

Richie supposes he knows what could quell these nightmares, but it's not like he has his mother at his university dorms.

It's an issue. And it keeps waking up his poor roommate, Eddie, who just wants to fucking sleep.

Behind his eyelids all he can see is Pennywise and the floating children he could easily have been part of. Sometimes, a vision of himself in the deadlights floats up past his eyes but that's not the scariest part. The scariest part is when the goddamn thing, with the metal pole through his head, turns to make eye contact with Richie, the blood dripping up towards the ceiling. In those moments, it feels like the clown can see through the passage of time and the doors of memory and into Richie's eyes then and there.

He whimpers, trying to stay quiet, and opens his eyes. The dark shadows in the room only spur on his fears even more and, with a timid hand, he reaches out to flick on the little lamp beside his bed, falling back into his pillow and staring across at Eddie. Even without his glasses, the semi-blurred image of him is comforting: not only is he kind and understanding, but he's beautiful and soft too.

Richie couldn't have asked for a better roommate and he constantly apologizes for waking Eddie up with his sounds and lights and paranoia. He's so fucking thankful Eddie doesn't try to switch rooms, and who knows? maybe he has in the past, but either way. He's here now.

There was a shuffle on the other bed and Richie looked down at the bedside table, still barely daring to blink.

"Rich," Eddie murmurs.

"Yeah, I'll turn it off," Richie replies in a low whisper.

"No—I just uh..." he sounds groggy and tired from sleep, adorably so, and he reaches up an arm to rub his eye with the heel of his palm. "Well, you always watch me when you're trying to sleep, so maybe I could help?"

Richie opens his mouth, formulating a good reply, then closes it when nothing comes. Weakly, he looks up at Eddie. "You see that?"

Eddie nods, smiling almost smugly.

"Sorry."

"Sorry? No don't be, if it helps you sleep. I just, uh, I wanted to know if maybe you- you um, if it would help if I slept with you," he offers.

Richie blinks, very taken aback, and stammers for a good second.

"No! No, not like that," Eddie huffs. "I meant like... well, never mind."

Richie does know what he meant, now that the initial shock had passed, but he isn't sure how to say what he wanted to say. He supposes Eddie has already offered to cuddle with him, even in their one-person dorm beds, and what harm would it be if...

"It would," he mumbles. "It would help. But don't do it for me, I don't want to stop you from sleeping even more than I already do."

"The only issue I see is how we're gonna fit two people on one of these fuckin' things."

Richie has never felt so fucking relieved. It is three thirty on a Tuesday morning but Richie feels like he could yell.

"You're for real?" he asks, honestly expecting a no.

Eddie was not that's kind of person, though. "Dude, come here and shut off that light. We'll figure something out." He lifts the blanket up, scooting back towards the wall. Richie bites his tongue: Eddie's pyjama pants had ridden up his leg, halfway up his thigh on one side.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off.

Don't be weird, asshole. He's being nice to you.

Hesitantly, Richie hauls himself out from beneath the covers and shut off the light, shuffling hurriedly to Eddie's bed and climbing in. He hopes to god his breath isn't horrid.

"Thank you," he mumbles.

"It's okay, no problem, forget about it, okay?" Eddie replies. "Relax. Get comfortable, Richie."

Slowly but surely, Richie settles into Eddie's bed. He ends up on his back with one arm around Eddie's torso, Eddie's head in the crook of his neck and Eddie's leg across his hips. He rests his other hand on Eddie's knee.

This position can't possibly be very comfy for Eddie, but he's asleep and Richie can't possibly wake him up. Not after all this. With the blanket pulled up to his shoulders and his arm rather tight around Eddie, Richie finally falls asleep.

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By the way THANK YOU GUYS SO FUCKING MUCH OSHSKDNOW

50k?? Liek holy shit wtf where did y'all come from