beavertrap | open rp

[ Richie laughs and lets him go, ]

No, you're my best friend, asshole.

[ He reaches over to mess up his hair, ]

Yeah, yeah, your kale is waiting for you.

[ But it's true. He loves the other Losers deeply but Eddie really has always been his best friend. The one that's always been closest to his heart. ]

[ Well, that mollifies him in a way little else can. They’re best friends, and that’s enough (it has to be). ]

You’re my shitty best friend, too.

[ ugh, his hair’s gonna dry all floppy now!! Eddie pauses by the door. ]

Let me know if you need anything else, but honestly — you’ve got this, Rich.

[ already made it this far. ]

[ It's only when Eddie leaves the room completely that Rich takes a moment to really bask in that compliment. It gives him enough incentive to try on one of the "suits" with one of the better pairs of shoes Eddie picked out.

Hw walks into the kitchen, still adjusting the blazer on him as he does so. ]

How's this one?

[ Sat at the breakfast nook in Richie’s kitchen, Eddie looks up from his half-eaten sandwich and second coffee of the day, grossly underestimating what he is about to witness here.

Big-eyed as he is, this might be to Eddie what the running shorts are to Richie. Oh, god, why is his mouth so dry? ]

You look, it’s really — [ what is the least thirsty way to say this. ] — sharp. You look fuckin’ sharp.

[ be helpful for once in your life loser ]

Maybe...too sharp for their indie budget? [ He leans his chin on his hand, propped on the table (his other fingers hold tight to his mug for support). This is fine. This is an excuse to look at Richie, like, objectively. Eddie will remind himself this is the worst thing he could want for either of them, when they just got each other back. ] Did they give you details on the venue and dress code?

[ to his credit, he keeps his voice controlled. ]

[ Richie frowns at that, confused again as he looks down at himself, ]

What do you mean? It's just my clothes for a party. It's gonna be at this bar they booked at.

[ He looks back at Eds, putting his hands on his hips, ]

It's not like it's a three-piece suit, man.

[ Because this is dressing down compared to what he was originally thinking. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

Continued here~

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