❦♰❀ reddie smut ☿✿☆

84. dreaming of a white christmas

by: sunxcherries

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The eggnog was set out in two mugs on their coffee table next to a plate of sugar cookies that Eddie had spent all evening baking and decorating. The fire, however electrical, was lit in their fireplace, and Eddie had Bing Crosby's Christmas album playing on Richie's fancy record player. He still didn't know why Richie had that thing, seeing as it was one of the newer ones that just let you hook up your phone to it and play music through the speakers, and Richie didn't own very many records anyway. The album was about halfway through, and Eddie's eyes were glued to the clock on the mantle.

Richie was late.

It was already past eleven, and Eddie couldn't help but tap his foot nervously against the carpet. It was supposed to be their first Christmas together as a couple, and so help him god if Richie didn't show, Eddie was going to murder him.

Richie's manager had thought that it would be a good idea to do a tour late in the year, just a couple of shows scattered around in big cities. This meant that Richie had to perform on December 23rd in New York, on the other side of the country , and Eddie had begged to go with him but Richie had promised that he'd be home for Christmas.

A snowstorm and subsequent flight delay later, Richie had frantically called Eddie and told him he was doing everything he could, assured him that he would be there with him no matter what.

So now, Eddie was sitting in their apartment on Christmas Eve, alone.

He hadn't gotten an update since Richie had texted him at take-off from his hastily-booked connecting flight in Denver a few hours ago, and he thought about just putting everything away and going to bed. Eddie knew it wasn't Richie's fault, but he couldn't help but be pissed at the entire situation and at Richie's manager specifically. Who books a tour when everyone is already traveling for the holidays? It didn't make sense to Eddie, seeing as the only place he wanted to be right then was in Richie's arms. As he stared at their Christmas tree all lit up and sparkling in front of the picture window, taunting him, he felt himself start to tear up.

"Get a fucking grip, Kaspbrak," he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He grabbed his mug of egg nog from the table and drank about a third of it, screwing waiting for Richie. It was getting cold, anyway, and Eddie didn't want to wait until it was too cold to drink without throwing it in the microwave. It was never as good after it was reheated, and he knew that drinking it like that would be the cherry on top of his already terrible mood.

But a few sad and anxious minutes later, he heard the key jiggling in the lock of the front door, and he shot up off of the couch so fast he almost hurt his back.

The door swung open and his boyfriend's curly black hair was the first thing Eddie saw, quickly followed by the rest of Richie as he pulled his suitcase through into the penthouse.

"Richie," Eddie sighed, burying his face in his boyfriend's neck and wrapping him into a tight hug. Richie returned it just as tightly, nuzzling his face into Eddie's hair before pulling him back to kiss him. Eddie was starting to care less and less about germs, and he actively didn't care that Richie had been in airports and on planes for the entire day; he just wanted Richie's mouth on his.

The movement of their lips was slow and sweet, Eddie's mind and body finally relaxing and letting go of all of the tension they'd held for the entire two weeks that Richie had been gone. Being with Richie calmed him down, made the thoughts in his head less jumbled, made them make more sense, and every time Richie left he couldn't wait for him to come back home.