beavertrap | open rp

[ The retort was enough to get Richie to laugh, too impressed and taken aback but the familiarity of it to do anything else. It's that same familiarity that colors the rest of their trip, eating drive-thru, jamming out to songs, witnessing yelling matches (or partaking in them along with Eddie), and trying not to listen in on those calls to his wife, Marsha.

He doesn't mind Eddie staying in his room. They end up sharing the bed a few more times along the way and each time it gets easier, more... natural. Other times they have separate beds or separate rooms entirely. Each time, they try to find the same shows to watch or Rich manages to find some trashy 80s movie that he says "tickles his pickle" just to be a shit.

It's only when they enter California that he really starts to feel nervous about things. It's only when the ocean air really hits them and his Starship favorites come up on the playlist again that he relaxes. It'll be fine. Eddie's never been on this side of the country before (that he knows of). It's a brave new world and shit.

Granted the L.A. traffic earns the reaction he had anticipated but the sunset isn't bad by the time they get to his building. A higher-end one compared to the one-bedroom one he started out in. The building more New York-like in it's structure, as were the apartments inside but the neighborhood around it was busy and noisy. At least during the days. Nights kinda were too but it was still better than a few of the other places he's lived. ]

Here it is. Home sweet home.

[ He leads Eddie through the lobby and they get the elevator to themselves on the way up, fifth floor. The hallways are wide and long, carpeted floors with white and burgundy coloring along the walls. His is on the corner of the building, rounded and giving a pretty good view of the streets and intersection as well as the skyline depending on which room you're in. He goes in first, hitting the lights and tossing his bags down as gracelessly as ever. He holds his arms out for Eddie to take a look at all before closing the door behind them.

Due to where it is on the building, the foyer is an open and rounded space, the different rooms all branching off into different directions like a maze. Richie points at each of them, going clockwise from the door: ]

That's the laundry nook. That's the guest room - I've been using it for a game room but it's yours now. Um, bathroom, my room, living room, kitchen.

[ The ceiling is high up and the noise outside doesn't register as loud. The foyer has some discarded shoes and a table with junk mail piled onto it but nothing overtly offensive. ]

Whadya think?

[ If living with Richie is anything like travelling with Richie, Eddie thinks they'll manage for as long as necessary (though he still doesn't plan to overstay his welcome). At the sights (the trees, the ocean air), Eddie lowers his window, first just a crack and then all the way down, bravery increasing by increments. The world feels different already, after days with Richie and hours here. I'm really doing this. On his own, for the first time in a long time — well, with Richie — but doing it for himself. No mother, my girlfriend, no Myra. It feels like running so fast the devil can't catch them.

Once inside, his jaw drops. Putting his body on autopilot, he leaves his bags by the door, wandering after Richie and glancing around the foyer. But it's yours makes his stomach flutter. Don't. For now, he reminds himself. All of this is temporary. ]

[ after a beat, ] I think people pay you way too much for your chucks. [ He knows LA and New York both charge through the nose, and this is — upmarket, definitely. God knows if he can even afford half the rent. Is Richie really rich and famous? Like, Eddie's seen clips on YouTube, and he knows there was a filmed special or two, but this is no joke. ] Holy shit, Rich.

[ Eddie claps Richie on the back, half to steady himself but also to sort of congratulate him, y'know, on being a successful motherfucker. He doesn't remove his hand. ]

[ Rich snorts and gives Ed a good-natured shove, ]

Hey, I told you that Pixar money is good. Plus I do a lot of shows, a lot of clubs, royalties from Netflix. Some private birthdays on the side.

[ There's a reason he doesn't get up most mornings and his rooms look neglected, after all. ]

My agent wants me to look at a few movie scripts but I don't know. Comedian doesn't mean "good actor".

[ And there's only a handful, in his opinion, that actually made the transition work like fucking gold. ]

Edited 2019-11-11 22:02 (UTC)

I'll send the Mouse a thank you card, Jesus.

[ He follows the momentum of the shove onward, stumbling forward and peaking into the laundry nook (nice), bathroom (could use some bleach) — ]

You should do it. [ a bit distracted by the space, though he sounds confident. ] You won't know until you try it, man. How different are characters from your shitty Voices, anyway.

[ — he skips Richie's room 'cause he may be nosy, but the man opening his doors deserves some privacy and opens the game room (which needs an overhaul, oof), kitchen (no molding dishes, at least, though it seems suspiciously empty) and the living room, cluttered enough that he can feel his muscles tensing. ]

Dude, [ nose scrunching. ] why is your closet all over the living room floor? It looks like someone nuked a Ron Jon Surf Shop.

[ so many Hawaiian prints... ]

[ There's an indignant "Hey!" at the way Eddie calls his voices shitty but he knows the other man has a point. But he walks over to the living room to look at it before flipping another switch and turning the lamps and overhead colored string lights that serve as the lighting for his fairly impressive flat screen and movie collection.

And the couch he sleeps on more than his own bed.

The rest really is piles of clothes everywhere. Even the vacuum cleaner alongside the wall is covered in a pile. ]

Says the guy with like eighteen polo shirts.

[ He leans against the doorframe with a shrug, ]

I was in a rush to pack and didn't know what to bring.

[ At the jibe about the polo shirts, he opens and closes his mouth. They suit his frame, according to Vogue, but to admit that is to invite short-jokes. Richie turning on the lights is permission for him to snoop further, running a finger over his film collection. His thirteen-year-old self would be in awe of this, in particular, and certainly more impressed by Richie's lifestyle than his own. ]

What? Were you worried Big Bill was gonna outdo you with a plaid number?

[ Is Bev the only fashionable one? Maybe. (Stan always dressed nice, too, or so Eddie thought). On his way back, he starts picking up Richie's shirts, draping them over his arm. ]

[ When he notices Richie watching him, he offers a simple, ] If I'm washing my shit, we might as well throw everything in. And I can't watch your crime shows and have all of this [ waving a hand. ] lurking in the background.

[ A man can only take so many stressors. ]

Edited (belatedly typos) 2019-11-11 23:16 (UTC)

[ He remains where he is against the doorframe, watching Eddie like he keeps doing everywhere they go lately. ]

I didn't even remember Bill, actually. Not until I got into Derry.

[ But then he snorts at Eddie's words, ]

Shirts don't "lurk", man.

[ He finally leaves the doorway, ]

You hungry?

[ Richie's words remind him how fragile all of this is, remembering each other and being together. In the gap, Eddie even bought a few pieces from the Beverly Marsh collection without thinking twice. ]

Me either.

[ Just a quiet assurance that they're still on the same page. He visibly perks up at the next bit, glancing up from his compulsive tidying. ]

Starving. What are you thinking?

[ Rich holds up a finger and walks out to the kitchen. He comes back with a small stack of menus. He holds them out to Eddie, spreading them out like a deck of cards. ]

Pick your poison.

[ Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Indian, Italian, Mexican, and good 'ol fashion burgers. Richie knows them all well and can vouch all of them can make a good meal. ]

[ That is way too many takeout menus, fucking hell, man. Given his line of work, Eddie supposes Rich is busy, especially in the evenings, but it does make him wonder, dimly, just how often Richie comes back home, exhausted and alone.

Still, it's kinda exciting, at least right now, when there's no way Myra would have supported any of these options. Mouth quirked, he plucks the Japanese menu from Rich's hand. ]

I wanna eat my weight in fried rice. [ and scanning the menu. ] Oh-ho shit, split the gyoza with me, dude.

[ They shared all sorts of things on the road. Food, beds, not-quite-secrets. No need to stop now that they've reached their destination (every reason to stop, comes the same voice that warned him on that first night). ]

Call that in and whatever else you like, no nuts, especially cashews — [ He jerks his head back to the movie collection. ] — and pick a movie. [ Looking up at Richie again (still so stupidly tall and suddenly close), he beams and presses the menu back against his chest. ] We went to hell and back, man.

[ They made it together, all in one piece, so it's time to fuckin' celebrate already. Well, after Eddie clears the floor, loads the laundry, moves his stuff into the guest room, showers and assesses the state of the bathroom, y'know. The rest can wait until tomorrow. ]

[ Exhausted, alone and drunk. Sometimes there's a tag-along but they never stay the night. They fool around, get off, and the other man leaves. Richie showers and passes out and then goes about his day. Or week. He doesn't hook up as much as he used to, the older he gets, the more he realizes he wants something more. Which he never feels he can admit out loud. Richie Tozier wanting romance? Sounds like the setup for one of his jokes.

But the way Eddie seems to be all for ordering out has Rich grinning down at him, ]

This place serves mochi, too. And sake. We're getting all of it and eating like kings, okay.

[ And he doesn't have to think about which movie. He strolls right over and gives a quick look before pulling out one BluRay and tossing it out to Eddie to catch. ]

That's some of the best trash.

[ Because it's that or Flashdance. Which they will still most likely watch anyway because they can do whatever they want now. ]

Edited 2019-11-12 01:33 (UTC)

[ Thanks to his sporty spice reflexes, he catches the box even with an armful of clothes. God, he should’ve known letting Richie pick the movie would fucking backfire. ]

There is something, like, fundamentally wrong with your brain. [ The smile as he says it, head ducked in a failed attempt to hide away his true feelings on the matter, indicates otherwise. He sets the box on the nearest surface in the room before wandering out. Doesn’t even mind that there’s a veritable laundry mountain in the nook by the time he collects everything (but he does squawk at the state of the filter: You could’ve burned the whole fucking building down, man!). It only really hits him that he’s here, at the end of the bumpiest stretch of road, when he’s alone in the shower.

You’re getting divorced, you moved to LA, you live with your childhood friend turned famous comedian. And that friend has gone out of his way to welcome and care for you since you both almost died together inside the hellmouth. It makes his stomach flip and his heart beat fast. How the fuck is he ever gonna repay Richie for this? How can he even communicate what it means to him to be here?

The sound of the doorbell jolts him out of his not-quite-crisis, and he quickly towels off, dressing in the same sort of sleep clothes he always does and bounding into the living room, hair damp and skin still suffused with warmth. At the sight of their feast being laid out on the coffee table, his mouth curves helplessly. ]

I fucking love you, holy shit.

[ Out of his mouth before he has time to think about it — and it shouldn’t matter, anyway. They all love each other. It’s just — true, fuck off. Blame his pink cheeks on the shower.

With an entire couch’s worth of real estate and chairs to spare, Eddie budges up right next to Richie, cracking chopsticks to lean across him and snatch some gyoza. ]

I’m leaving you a 4 star review, no question: [ munching happily, with a bump of their shoulders. ] “Cluttered as shit, near-deadly health and safety violations, but the man knows his takeout.”

[ Richie can't even feign disappointment in Eddie's response. He's way too pleased with himself, ]

What? It's a trashy thriller with all the nudity and deadly women. It's perfect for us getting shitfaced and wolfin' down take out.

[ Don't @ him, dude. You know it. He knows it. He just also knows, while Eddie is contemplating things over in the shower, he has to scramble to get junk out of the guest room. He leaves the X-box and PS4 under the tv where they belong. The Nintendo Switch is tossed into his room. He tries to rapidly pick up the trash and shove the assortment of accessory guns and joysticks under the futon all before the food gets here.

He's winded by the time the doorbell rings but one shot of that sake before Eddie gets out of the shower does him wonders. He snorts at the exclamation, retorting with: Remember you said that tomorrow morning. Because he's pretty sure Eddie has never had true sake before. Still, they collect their food in plates and Rich laughs again as he starts up the movie, bumping Ed's shoulder right back because he can hardly resist doing so. ]

Goddamn right I do. You also better add "excellent taste in movies" or your polo shirts are all gonna go "missing" suddenly.

Edited 2019-11-12 08:41 (UTC)

You really wanna threaten my polos when I have the power to ruin your Hawaiian shirts. [ he tugs at Richie’s collar with his free hand, whether or not he’s wearing said shirt. ] Watch yourself, big guy.

[ All it would take is a few droplets of bleach, my dude (also the polos make his arms look good, fuck off).

As it happens, Eddie has never had more than sips of sake at dinners with his coworkers. He and Myra stay on box white wine, if they drink at all. Still, a competitor by nature, he tries to copy Richie shot for shot. This does mean, however, that his lower surface area and BMI conspire to ensure he’s halfway to fucked by the time the killer is revealed, despite all the delicious carbs. God, there’s a lot of sex in this movie — sex and murder and sexy murder. The height of trash, and an altogether unsurprising selection.

At least the alcohol helps him relax, less jumpy than he was during their first viewing of Deadly Women but just as close, finding different ways to maintain contact and glancing to his side whenever the violence kicks up (and sometimes when nothing of note is happening on screen — Rich has a nice profile, and Eddie already knew that, objectively — in fact, it is one of many things that he knows, after spending a week in close quarters). At one point, he has his socked feet in Richie’s lap, hands ever-shifting to cover his mouth. ]

Oh — fuck — if Liz dies, I’m killing you for making me watch this.

[ He always wants the protagonist to survive, god help him. ]

[ When Eddie tugs on Rich's collar, he makes like he's gonna bite that hand. Of course, he doesn't. But he's in a good enough mood to joke around like they were thirteen again. Like everything else with Eddie, it was easy to do. Just like eating and drinking like they were back at the Jade with the others. Except this was the After-After Party celebration.

They were alive, they were together. The world was their oyster.

He has no problem maintaining contact with Eddie. He knows it's selfish on his part but can he really refuse that little bit of comfort? He laughs at the threat Eddie makes as they get closer to the end of the film and reaches down with hands to shake Ed's feet in his lap. ]

It's nineteen eighty, man! Anything could happen!

[ Fuck, he’s laughing, any genuine tension dissipating as quickly as it appeared. He feigns an attempt to kick free. ]

That doesn’t mean it should!

[ As nights go, it’s one of the best in Eddie’s recent memory (maybe the best). Unlike the evening of their reunion at the Jade, the balloon never pops — even when the “it was all a dream” ending hits, Eddie remains warmed from the inside out. Can’t remember the last time anything has been as easy as this. He swings his legs free, half-tumbling forward to knock into Richie’s shoulder with his own. ]

What the fuck was that, man.

[ Richie lets his feet go and laughs at Eddie nearly slamming into his side like that. ]

That was de Palma reusing the same fucking ending from Carrie. That's what.

[ This is definitely one of the best nights he's had in a long, long time. Because with Eddie, just being here with him is enough to make him happy. There are no strings attached, no bailing after the "mutual transaction" of sex. It's just them being dumb and having the kind of fun they had when they were younger. ]

You know what we gotta watch next right?

[ His brows knit, trying to guess despite the alcohol slowing him down. ]

Please don’t say Carrie. [ reaching to pour himself more sake to cope with that theoretical scenario. ] I can only do so much blood, man.

[ Though it seems like he would watch anything, if it meant staying with Richie and indulging his whims. It’s just a question of how much whining is involved. ]

[ Richie laugh again, almost tempted to make it Carrie he just lift one of his legs into the air instead. As if he were a dancer before singing out, ]

What a feeling~

[ He tries to spin his foot around but it only pops his ankle. Which gets a groan that forms into another laugh. ]

Fuck.

[ He pushes himself off of the couch with a grunt and moves over to change the movies out, singing the phrase "getting old sucks" to the same tune as the other song. Before turns back to Eddie and points, ]

Yes, we are watching Flashdance. Because it's sexy and awesome and romantic with a baller soundtrack.

[ Eddie laughs aloud at that, almost choking on his drink. Finally, he manages out a deadpan — ]

We are definitely low on all of those adjectives right now.

[ single divorcee-in-progress and single stand-up comedian, both 40+, mmm hmm. He pats the spot beside him after he says it, though, brows arched and mouth quirked (like it’s not a bad thing because, well, they’re together). ]

[ Richie grins wide at that, making sure the movie was in and ready to play before shuffling on back to the couch. He flops down next to Eddie and wraps an arm around Ed's shoulders to pull him in and kiss the side of his head. ]

Naw, man. You're totally sexy and awesome. There's way better women out there for you.

[ It’s a moment so unexpected, a reassurance in place of a cheap shot at his boring job or various neuroses, that it will haunt his dreams and waking moments for the next week, at least. Colour floods his neck and cheeks, altogether too warm, and he tips his head into Richie to hide it (yeah, just to hide it, sure thing, you stupid motherfucker). ]

Here’s to hoping they don’t find me all the way out here. [ His track record for accidentally ending up with a girlfriend is so high, it had been a running joke among his university friends. ]

You be the romantic one this time. [ a beat, in which he has too much time to consider that possibility. ] Yeah, bet you’re good at it, you fuckin’ sap.

[ Being expressive, even when they were young, with a thoughtful streak as an adult. And with a capacity for vocalising his feelings and offering encouragements that Eddie most certainly lacks. ]

[ Richie keeps his arm around Eddie, the nights they've spent together making him feel better about being more expressive physically with Eds. The sake definitely helped in this moment. Where he isn't feeling like he's dying inside at the thought of Eddie being with someone else that isn't him.

He snorts loudly, ]

If that were true I wouldn't be alone this far into life.

[ He stretches his other arm up above his head, slouching down in the couch as he does so, stretching out his legs, too. ]

Never married, can't keep a relationship. Nah, I'm shit at all of it.

[ Eddie has been, and will continue, to avoid thinking about how he’s had more affectionate physical contact in the last week with Richie than in the last year of his marriage. It’s not something you’re meant to dwell on, when upending your life and moving in with said source of affection.

After a pause, he pulls back just enough to look at Richie (too close, fuck, shit) and reaches out, gently knocking against his collarbone to catch his attention. ]

I don’t believe it, Rich. [ a 180 from his audacity when he first heard Richie might be married at the Jade, throat tight. A few counters come to mind. You’re a catch. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and it’s not that different in the end, is it? Instead, he leans back under Richie’s arm and mimics his posture, selfishly chasing warmth and closeness before he finally decides to add — ]

Somebody out there’s kicking themselves over losing you. [ with a reassuring squeeze at Richie’s knee, filling in the worlds he lacks with a gesture (one he most certainly wouldn’t have the careless confidence for while sober). That has to be true, when Eddie has felt his absence unknowingly for years. Lulled by the comfort and the alcohol both, he continues aloud without even realising it, focus drifting back to the screen. ] I didn’t even remember you, and I think I missed you.

[ That he gravitated towards people who reminded him of Richie without knowing why, even though none of them stuck in his place. Maybe because that spot was already filled. ]

And I don't believe that.

[ He says it with a laugh, finding the idea of anyone wanting him for more than his dick - because it's a good dick, okay? - pretty laughable after everything he's been through. But he still keeps Eddie close to his side, letting the other man snuggle against him with no qualms about it. He knows, deep down, he shouldn't be doing this. He knows how selfish this all is on his part but considering everything Richie has wanted to say to Eds since they first saw each other again, he thinks he's shown pretty considerable restraint. At least for him.

But his latter statement really strikes a cord, Richie trying to rest his head on top of the other's, ]

Yeah? I think I did, too. Like I was looking for you without realizing it.

[ Because there had been plenty of mouthy brunettes that had been shorter than him walking in and out that door. Same with his previous place. But none of them ever felt worth chasing. None of their eyes had ever been the big brown ones he had been unknowingly trying to find this whole time. ]

Edited 2019-11-14 16:30 (UTC)

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