Wait For It || Reddie ✔️

seven

Maggie had left soon after. When the doorbell rang shrilly throughout the house, the two boys jumped down the stairs and Richie opened the door to accept the pizza. Fresh air wafted in, and the sticky heat mixed with the earthy scent of incoming rain had come in strong and hard. Richie paid with the cash his mother had left and turned to face Eddie with a devilish grin.

"It's just pizza, Rich. Keep it in your pants, will you?"

"Impossible," he replied, snorting out a laugh and racing into the kitchen. Eddie followed at a normal pace.

"You don't look sick anymore," he commented as Richie slid the pizza box onto the table and went for the cupboards, opening the door and pulling out two plates, the ceramics clinking together.

"Nah. You have that effect on me, I guess."

Eddie blinked at Richie's turned back. He then looked away, his fingers drumming along the side of his legs. "Yeah, right," he muttered, his face pulling into a certain expression, as if he didn't fully believe Richie's words.

Richie set the two plates onto the island counter and went for the fridge, ripping that door open as Eddie approached the counter to lift the box lid.

"Want something to drink?"

"Water is fine with me."

Richie made a noise of disapproval---or disgust. "I refuse to let you be lame, Eds. Come on, now, water?" He shook his head, peering deeper into the glacial light of the fridge. "We've got Coke, Slice, Cherry Pepsi---but that one is my mom's, and she'll throw a fit if we have one of hers, so maybe not that. My pops keeps a case of Jolt hidden in the garage, because my mom would also throw a fit if she knew that was in the house."

"You know how I feel about energy drinks, Rich. And I'm surprised as a nurse your mom buys so much junk food."

Richie shrugged and pulled out a can of Slice. "It keeps me happy."

"Anything for the princess, huh?"

Richie barked out a laugh. "I'm a princess to you?" he asked, a joyful smile on his face as he kicked the fridge door closed and joined Eddie at the counters edge.

"You sure act like one," he said, and Richie laughed again.

Together, they pulled out the sliced pizza onto their plates and went into the living room after Richie had gotten Eddie a cup of iced water. Eddie carefully sat on the couch and set his plate on his lap, his drink on a coaster on the side table. Richie fell into the cushions with a seemingly unstable grip on his plate and let his unopened can of soda roll into the folds of the couch.

He grabbed the remote and laid his chin flat against the plate, attempting to eat his pizza without lifting it as he switched on the television. The screen stayed black, but the speakers transmitted a loud, high pitched tone that made the boys cringe.

"Can you believe," Richie started, the tail of his pizza clenched between his teeth, "that my ma and pa are too old to hear that? It fucks me in the ears every time."

"I can't get over how you're eating your pizza, Rich," Eddie said, his eyebrows furrowed, but there is a hidden ghost of an amused smile twitching at his mouth.

"Well," Richie said again, but the movement of his lips made the tail drop to the plate. "Well, my mom has a stick up her ass about being clean. Oh boy, the things she'd say if she knew we were eating out here."

"Should we not be?" Eddie asked, his voice a pitch higher, unsure. "Should we---"

"Oh, shut it, Eds. We're fine."

"...Okay," he muttered.

Just then, the television buzzed on and Richie whooped. He pointed the remote to the screen and began flipping channels, the picture fuzzy and glitching. "Stupid TV," Richie whispered under his breath.

"You got a VCR player, right?" Eddie asked and Richie paused.

"Oh, shit. Yeah! You're so smart!"

Richie jumped up, his plate still in his hands, and set it down on the coffee table. Eddie playfully huffed and watched as Richie went to a wooden cabinet in the corner of the living room. "What'd you wanna watch? My mom banned most of the movies, sadly, so my dad hid them but I don't know where his stash is."

Eddie laughed into his bite. "I don't care," he said into his pizza. "Whatever you can find."

"My mom just got Trading Places for her birthday. Wanna watch that one? I think it's a drama or some shit."

"Sure," Eddie said, indifferent. "Nothing different than what my mom watches."

Richie fiddled with the VCR set and, after a painfully long time of him huffing and groaning, and Eddie sitting patiently, putting a pause on his chewing so he can eat alongside the movie, it finally sputtered to life. The VHS tape clicked and whirled within the device, the movie beginning to play on the static screen.

When Richie dropped himself back onto the couch, he sat much closer to Eddie. An applique quilt hung decoratively off the face of the couch, and that was what Richie pulled from its spot to cover himself and Eddie with. Satisfied and snug, he fished his forgotten can from whatever crevice it had fallen into and grabbed his plate. He stole a glance at Eddie, whose face was washed in the blue-white glow from the television screen and whose hair was illuminated from the yellow cast of the darkening sun. Richie smiled to himself and easily fell into the comforts of the cushions and the boys presence, very pleased that his plan of feigning illness succeeded.