beavertrap | open rp

[ IT’S A LOT FOR HIM PERSONALLY that’s what he means. ]

I’m just checking, GQ.

[ he takes another long look at Richie, gaze travelling from his loose curls all the way down to the shoes Eddie picked for him — and, oh, that actually makes his chest tight. Having a crush on Richie is one thing (feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and warm at their lifelong friendship — that’s fine, too) but being pleased at factoring into his mundane decisions is dangerous. That’s for someone else, one day. ]

It’s perfect for that. [ a hum of approval confirms it. ] I like it. Especially the blazer.

[ the part that Richie picked. ]

[ He huffs but he seems content otherwise. He's nervous enough, going to something like this and making a decent impression with the people he'll be working with for however long this goes on. He should probably ask Bill about that kind of thing, too. ]

Good. Keep that in mind when you pick yours, Plus One.

[ He can bring someone so of course he's going to bring Eddie. ]

[ Bad idea meet worse idea. Just make an excuse, Eds: Work thing, planned food poisoning, intentional car crash.

It certainly feels like losing control at the wheel, heart hammering and world spinning. ]

You’re supposed to phrase that as a question, dickwad.

[ It’s not a no, but — he has to check this isn’t a bit. ]

[ Cue the massive, dramatic eye-roll. ]

Really? You're gonna tell me you don't want to go?

Edited 2019-11-20 10:05 (UTC)

[ Honestly, a part for entertainment folks doesn’t sound like his bag, but a party with Richie isn’t something he’d say no to, both because of his infatuation and their friendship. Eddie tips back in his seat, tone softer than before. ]

No, I just said — ask me.

[ and mean it. If he doesn’t want to, that’s that. ]

[ Richie crosses his arms, still eyeing Ed with a confused expression and not really understanding why the "asking" part is so essential in this. Like this was something they could only ever speculate about as kids. Now, it was an actual reality.

(Not as swanky as an oscar party, no, but still pretty close!)

But, like with most things with Eddie, he relents. ]

Do you want to be my plus one to this party?

[ It matters because Eddie can't imagine why Richie would want him, of all people, at this party, being an east coast asshole with basic pop culture knowledge and a tendency to death-grip his wine rather than partake in any fun antics.

But since he does want Eddie there, it's done. Just another heartbeat of hesitation. ]

I do.

[ Finally, Eddie's mouth curves into a smile. ]

Anything I should know so I don't embarrass you? The only parties I go to anymore are work shindigs, and that's a different vibe from what you do.

[ Arms still crossed as he nods, ]

Keep the talk of diseases to a minimum unless someone else brings it up first. Please.

[ He didn't hesitate in that bit. Because while he's used to it, while the other Losers just know that's how Ed is, other people... might not get it. And it's less about Rich being embarrassed and more about not wanting Eddie to be looked at weird or made to feel weird. ]

Otherwise, just be yourself.

[ Eddie opens and closes his mouth, looking somewhat stricken by the first request. He knows he does that, he knows it’s not good for him, let alone anyone else, but it’s—a work in progress, to be less like that.

It does help when Richie is there to stopper his nervy thinking. ]

[ quieter. ] Okay. [ another sip of his coffee and a final bite of his sandwich before he stands to clear his plate and slot it the dishwasher. He has more questions, like what do we tell people who ask how we know each other? Am I your date? but he doesn’t want to push when he already made verbal missteps in this conversation, so instead he turns around, carding a hand back through his hair, more sheepish than purposeful. ]

Thanks for asking me, Rich. [ a little nod to himself. ] I’m glad I’ll be there with you.

[ Richie smiles at that, glad that Eddie isn't upset about his terms (or at least doesn't seem to be). He nods back, arms swinging back to his sides, almost like he was twelve again. ]

I am too, man. I gotta be honest, I'm pretty nervous about all this. It'll help having you there with me.

[ Because who better than his best friend? The only thing better would having all the Losers there and turning it into a real party. But, hopefully, there will be time enough for that later. ]

[ There's a part of Eddie that knows it's wrong for him to say that - I love you - because of what they're doing, because he's not really capable of rational speech, but at the same time he truly does feel it. He loves Richie. And, heat or not, he knows this is far better than his sham of a marriage. ]

Yes, [ he replies immediately, nodding his head and pushing all thoughts of his wife to the back of his brain. ] Yes, Richie, please --

[ It's a big deal. Eddie's never thought much about it, either, but every molecule in his body is telling him that this is right. He hooks his legs around Richie's waist to draw him closer, a stream of desperate whimpers falling from his lips each time the other man thrusts into him. ]

I want it, I want it, Richie -- [ he makes a high-pitched, keening sort of sound as he presses his face against Richie's shoulder, his toes curling as he imagines what it'll feel like to be filled by an alpha - by his mate. ]

[ Be brave, he thinks, like Richie said he was — like Stan urged him to be in the letter he received a week ago. Eddie steps forward, catching Richie’s wrist as he passes, touch lingering. ]

I’ll be with you the whole time. [ jerking his head. Teasing, then. ] Until you ditch me to do shots with some actor. Then I’ll probably, like, make shitty small talk with the camera guy. Or gal. Don’t gotta be prescriptive about it.

[ He tries not to let himself flush at the sudden touch (again). He thought he was over this by now... But he recovers quickly. He leans in to bump his shoulder with Eds'. ]

Bullshit, man. I'm gonna drag you to do shots with me. I know you got it in you.

[ Eddie’s features shift, playfully bothered. ]

Doesn’t mean I want it in me, huh. [ a beat. Softer. ] But I’ll go wherever you want me, man. It’s your big day.

[ At the affirmation, Richie presses Ed down to the bed, continuing to thrust into him, using the new position to angle their hips just so, allowing him to drive down into the omega under him. It was like he just knew how this was supposed to go. The Alpha in him knew, he just had to let it happen now. Because Eddie - his Eddie - wanted him just as much, just as badly. ]

You'll get it, baby. I've got you. I've got you.

Gonna fill you up over and over.

[ Because he needed to now. Desperate to come inside his mate in ways he had never allowed himself to feel before. ]

[ The night of the party, Richie Tozier is a Mess. He usually is anyway but more so when he's genuinely nervous for something like this. It's only Eddie being there and taking charge like he does that gets Rich out the door composed and slightly more calm.

Slightly.

Eddie ends up driving while Richie has another freak-out moment of needing to look up his cast members' names on his phone. None of them would ever know, however, by the time he walks into the restaurant that had been reserved for the party. Richie smiles and gives a wave when people spot him, the director calling over the room he's glad he "showed up". The guy he was going to be doing most of his scenes with - being his "cop partner" in the film - comes over with a wide grin and arms open wide. He gives Richie a big hug and then moves to do the same to Eddie. He smells like pot.

Which he happily informs them both: he has plenty left over if either of them wants some. Rich politely gives him a "maybe later", only to shake his head to Eds when the guy turns away, drawn into some other conversation. ]

Man, I need a drink.

Continued here~

[ Dressed in deep blue trousers and a sharp button down (tucked in, because of course it is), Eddie takes charge. He bends to fix the sloppy laces of Richie’s dress shoes, drives his sportscar through the evening traffic, and babbles throughout the ride. Mostly about his day and new job, the type of boring thing he assumes puts Richie to sleep, and so is inherently calming. At least until he ducks his head out the window to take aim at a tank of a car that illegally passed them.

On arrival, Eddie goes stiff enough in his co-star’s arms that the guy fucking notices and gives him an extra bro-y, slightly destabilising clap on the back. “You loosen up before the end of the night, okay?” No thank you, but he gives an abrupt nod anyway, not wanting to embarrass Richie. The thing is, Eddie’s driving, so — big no — and he’s, uh, not really here as a date, just as a... support unit, maybe. With a sideways glance and crooked smile, he slips his hand to the small of Richie’s back, palm open, guiding him toward the bar. ]

Luckily, I’m the yuppie who wants to buy you one for old time’s sake, big shot.

[ Two women are talking off to the side of the bar, engrossed in conversation — they could be interrupted or wait a moment. Regardless, Eddie leans up on his toes to whisper in Richie’s ear. ]

That’s Devon, your producer. And she’s talking to Nina, one of the actors.

[ ‘Cause Eddie started cramming the first day Richie asked him to come. Boy Scout. ]

Edited 2019-12-31 14:57 (UTC)

[ Richie snorts, rolling his shoulders to relax more as they move towards the bar. ]

"Yuppie" my ass. The way you yell during traffic makes me feel like you should've been a drill sergeant.

[ But then maybe Eddie should be his freakin' agent with the way he seems to know everyone here. Because Richie had spent so much of his time memorizing lines and trying to get through the script without laughing. He had memorized a few names but not like this. He looks to the women and then back to Ed, keeping his voice low. ]

Do you... know the name of everyone here, dude?

Yeah, thanks.

❪ eddie isn't near daring enough to watch as the other man leaves and, instead, returns to his homework with as much focus as a fish stuck on land trying to breathe. it's hard not to steal glances out of the corner of his eye at the guy. it's not something that he's actually thought a lot about since coming to the city and cracking down hard on his schoolwork at uni.

and, sure, he's had a girlfriend here or there but it's hard not to admit there might be a little attraction here. after all, the guy is pretty cute but more than anything that unknown familiarity is harder still to shake.

there's a grateful sigh as the plate is put down in front of him because it means getting eddie out of his thoughts and back into the current state of things. he blinks once and then twice but nods, a bit weakly, before doing as told and taking a bit. it's definitely more than he'd usually go for but it isn't bad in the least. ❫

It's really― ❪ and he pauses to hide his mouth behind his hand but it's clear he's grinning. ❫ It's really good.

[ How could Eddie have ever been with anyone else? No one's ever made him feel like this before: safe, wanted, truly loved. Having sex with Myra had never been like this, not once, not even the first time. Eddie feels like he could float away if Richie let go of him.

So it's a good thing they're locked together, a good thing that Richie's fucking him into the mattress. Eddie arches beneath him, trying to take him in deeper, tears forming at the edge of his eyelids as he's fucked by the one person he truly loves most in the world. His fingernails dig into Richie's skin as he clutches at the larger man, hanging on for dear life. ]

Please, [ he whispers, totally gone, ready to take it. ] Richie, I love you, I love you so much, please put it in me, fuck --

[ This didn't feel real. None of it did.

They finally killed that fucking clown for real, and they had barely made it out alive. Eddie had been on death's door by the time they managed to rush him to the hospital, Richie barely able to see through the muck and blood on his cracked glasses. Or the tears in his eyes. The whole time he begged Eddie to stay with him, with them. He couldn't leave after being such a big damn hero.

They had lost Stan without any chance to help him or say goodbye, they couldn't lose another fucking Loser.

Richie thought he knew what pain was. Rejection and loneliness, the pain of hiding who he really was. Playing the "trashmouth" he was always so good at being. Getting what attention he could. It was all various levels of pain, some handled better than others with age. Derry, of course, brought all of these memories and then some back to the surface. There wasn't nearly enough alcohol to deal with any of it.

And then Richie discovered a pain that he has never known was possible. The boy he had fallen in love with, now a man he still loved, stabbed in front of him, tasting Eddie's blood after it sprayed onto his face. Pain that rain through his own blood, into his limbs and bones once the shock wore off.

Eddie couldn't just die like that. This couldn't be the end for them.

He couldn't just leave him like this after they finally saw each other again.

He barely remembers how they got Eddie out of the house. He barely remembers arriving at the hospital. Just that his legs gave out and unable to get off of the floor as Bill and Mike tried to explain what happened. Bev and Ben kept trying to keep him from passing out right there. All he could do was silently pray to whatever deity would help make this miracle a real thing, hands splayed flat against the hard floor, the coolness of it a vaguely calming sensation while he felt like he was dying.

Eddie had been rushed into surgery, the rest of them there in the emergency room covered in shit, blood, and God knows what else. All of them stayed in the emergency room like that, huddled together, until they heard Eddie was out of surgery. Though Richie hadn't been awake to hear the initial announcement.

He doesn't remember being given the sedative. Just that when he woke up, the fear had returned in full force until he was told Eddie was alive. He was in ICU, but it was possible he would make a recovery. Richie had wept openly at the news, letting the other Losers hold him, so he wouldn't go onto the floor again.

Weeks passed, and Eds was finally in a room of his own, Richie spending more time there than Eddie's wife. No one had called her. She came on her own and sounded too much like Eddie's mom, threatening them with lawsuits. Richie clenched his jaw shut and refused to look at her. For once in his life, he kept his mouth shut.

All that mattered was Eds waking up again. If he could just be given that, he'd... let the other shit go. It was a familiar ache that he had to swallow down, once again willing to let that love go if it was easier for the other man. He couldn't just come back and wreck his whole life because they suddenly remembered they were friends. And Richie had a secret he had never told anyone else. No matter how badly he wanted it this time...

The other Losers were out getting lunch to bring back, Bev outside getting a smoke and Eddie's wife - he didn't even bother remembering her name, as petty as it was (and he knew it was) - was back at some hotel. He was sitting on the toilet lid in the bathroom, hands rubbing up and down his face, the exhaustion of so many nights of sleeping in a chair catching up with him more and more. He needed to keep taking these private moments for himself, trying not to break down crying again.

Coming back out of said bathroom, Richie didn't expect to be greeted with seeing those big brown eyes open again. ]

Edited 2021-08-26 09:28 (UTC)

[Funny how one's nightmares and fears can come full circle. For twenty-seven years Eddie had lived a pretty empty, miserable life. Had his life really changed that much since his childhood? It was never exactly fair, it treated him like worthless shit. He had forgotten about his childhood home, his band of losers and that fucking clown that had tormented them all. He didn't want to return to Derry regardless of the stupid promise he made as a kid.

But then he reunited with his best friends and nothing else mattered. For a moment there was this overwhelming feeling of being accepted, wanted and loved. There was also Richie, secretly the person he missed most of all. Perhaps that is why he acted with hardly any hesitation and second thought in spearing the damn spider mutant. The horrendous monster had attacked Richie with the deadly deadlights and Eddie was overcome with pure panic. He wasn't about to let that thing steal his best friend away from him, so Eddie acted on pure impulse.

The pain of being impaled was excruciating, numbing and the feeling alone had left Eddie's body ablaze. The events that occurred after were all hazy, a blur. He has no memory of how he got out of that damn house or arriving to the hospital, it was all black.

He remembers the horrified look on Richie's handsome face the very second he was struck, how Richie's trembling hands felt while cupping his cheeks and swearing that everything was going to be fine.

They were going to be fine.

There had been so much he had wanted to say, needed to say but it was so difficult to breath that alone form words that made sense once struggling to live became almost impossible. He blacked out, no memory of that either.. While in surgery he could experience hearing voices all around him, the feeling of burning lights upon his body and then he flat lined.

By the miracle of some greater being he was brought back to this world.

The room was bright once he finally came to, filled with the soft noises of beeps and low buzzes from the machines he was currently hooked up to. Panic washed over him instantly as he struggled to sit up, hands fisting to rip out his IV and that stupid thing they stick up your nose.

Where was he? Where were the other losers? Was Richie safe?

More bursts of panic until he hears the bathroom door open and those weak, large brown eyes fall upon the very person he's been looking for.]

R-Rich?

Edited 2021-08-29 20:02 (UTC)

[ Richie is frozen to the spot, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom heavily for a moment. He wills his legs to move and not give out again. Doesn't help he's been more or less living in this damn room for weeks now, his five o'clock shadow becoming more aggressive as time went on. Bags under his eyes, eyes themselves red from random, continuous bouts of crying (much to his annoyance). He's had showers, but that still doesn't take away from his near haggard appearance.

Pushing off from the door frame finally, he reaches for Eddie's hands. His eyes don't meet Eddie's, they just close and he somehow feels even more exhausted than when he was stressed and waiting. ]

Stop fucking with those, dumbass. You need 'em in you.

[ His hands grasp the other man's, and he just holds them. His eyes don't meet Eddie's. The just close and he breathes out a long breath, suddenly feeling more exhausted than he had when still stressed and waiting. ]

About damn time you woke up.

Edited 2021-08-30 21:11 (UTC)

[Can a person actually feel like death itself? If so that is exactly what Eddie feels like. His skin is a dull greyish color due to the state of his health, his whole body aches with each breath he takes and his mind is foggy thanks all the heavy medication being pumped through his veins. In other words he doesn't look much better himself, Richie. He wants to sit up fully, hell he even tried but the condition of his weaken body presents him from doing so. He feels nauseated, drowsy and even though he's finally awake he could sleep for another several months.

He's forced to let his head fall back against the pillows but not once does his eyes leave Richie, terrified that this all could be a dream and that Richie will vanish within seconds.

The way Richie embraces his hands leaves Eddie's fingertips tingling and he laces their fingers together with a trembling grip. ]

S-shut up, dickwad. [His voice is horse, raw from where he has spent weeks in what they swore was a coma.. Just the few words uttered has his throat burning, the discomfort written on his face.

Suddenly all the panic comes rushing back and fingers move to dig at more medical equipment.]

W-where are we? [His eyes dart around frantically while making another attempt to sit up.]

Where is the fucking clown?

open rp

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

now it's my turn to apologize for the long wait! 😫😫😫

continued~ (for descriptive)

no subject

👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼

busts the door down with late, spiked starbucks

no subject

soooo I realize it's been forever but... :') ♥

fix-it au @ eddiespaghetti

no subject

no subject

no subject