Reddie Oneshots

Stupid Deep Pt. 8

The thing about Richie and Eddie is that they aren't romantic.

They say romantic shit, kind of, sort of. Mostly they argue and swear at each other and call each other names—lovingly—but they definitely say sappy shit sometimes. But they don't really do romantic things. They don't really...go on dates, or have Moments. And that's fine. Eddie's very happy. They hang out and go out for food and watch movies and have sex and cook meals together and it's nice. Domestic, relaxed, and nice.

The problem with it is, Eddie has no idea how to do something romantic in this context. When he is supposed to do something as romantic as propose—arguably the most inherently romantic gesture in existence—if any attempt to set the scene for it will be glaringly obvious and out of place? When's a right time when every moment is equally as special, and therefore not special, as the last?

And the compounded problem is that Richie obviously doesn't know when the right time to propose is, either, and is therefore ever-vigilant, and seems to get unbearably anxious every single time he thinks he could possibly happen.

It starts out endearing, if a little ridiculous. Every drawn-out silence or tender moment being cut abruptly short with nervous laughter and/or a hasty retreat. It's cute, the idea that Richie can't tell when Eddie's going to propose but is anticipating it and it makes him nervous. Unnecessary, but cute.

And then, after a while, Eddie has to admit that it gets worrying—especially the running away bit. They'll be watching a movie together on the couch, and it'll end, and the credits will roll, and there'll be a minute of pleasant, sleepy silence. Eddie will be happy, content, not even anywhere close to thinking about rings and questions. And then he'll feel Richie get tense next to him, like he's scared, and Eddie will look over at him, about to ask what's wrong, and he'll see it in Richie's eyes—the nervous anticipation. And then Eddie will open his mouth and inhale, and Richie will bolt, making some excuse, saying he has to get up early the next morning or he has to shower or some shit.

Or he'll haul ass out of bed after they have sex, the second Eddie hums and wants to say something, effectively cutting out any sense of afterglow, much less pillow talk. It's absurd. And it's kind of scary. Eddie could understand, maybe, him being nervous. It's a big thing. For both of them. But the avoidance? That's what gets him. Richie isn't just acting like he doesn't know what to do. He's acting like he doesn't want it. And Eddie's not sure how to deal with that.

And then life gets more hectic. Richie starts his latest tour, which means he's away, travelling, every other week, and it's just not feasible for Eddie to go with him. So Richie is gone half the time, and when he's home, he's tired and stressed and on edge. They snap at each other more, and not in a cute way. Reunion sex gets significantly less passionate. Eddie misses Richie desperately when he's gone, but when they're together things are...tense. Strained. And Richie keeps running away.

But the distance is making things worse. Eddie is 80% sure of it. The distance, and the stress. Things would get better, he thinks, if they spent more time together, and had a chance to relax. And maybe talk. Not that Richie ever lets them talk about anything even vaguely serious. His mouth is always running, but all that ever comes out is useless shit. God, it's a whole mess.

But Eddie thinks—hopes—desperately hopes—that these past months weren't just a honeymoon phase of happiness. He hopes that they won't be like this for the rest of forever. He won't believe it. He can't. They just need a break.

An opportunity arrives right before the holidays. Richie has a final show on the 21st in Milwaukee. Two hours from the city, Patty Uris's family has a huge cabin in the bluffs of Wisconsin. The Losers are all congregating there for the holidays, since for the most part, none of them have any desire to be with their blood relatives. This, at last, is Eddie's chance to...relax, and decide what he wants to do. This is their chance to bounce back. He can feel it.