Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
There was an order that relationships were supposed to go in—a pacing—a calculated number of breaths before certain conversations could happen. Eddie knew this. But he also knew that he and Richie’s relationship didn’t fit the same mold, and so he really shouldn’t have been surprised when Richie brought up marriage. He shouldn’t have been, but he was.
“Yeah, Eddie. I want to marry you.” Richie leaned into Eddie’s space on the couch, nearly on top of him, and pushed his hair back with delicate fingers. “I want to spend an absurd amount of money on a ring you won’t even wear half the time because you’re worried about your blood circulation and I want to take you somewhere nostalgic and propose. I want to have a ceremony with suits and vows and cake and a ridiculous speech from Bill that’ll make us both cry.”
“Oh is that all?” Eddie laughed nervously, something pleasant and curious twisting in his gut. Richie shook his head.
“I want to buy a house with you. I want to get a bed that we spend the whole day fighting over trying to put together. I want to leave little... little sticky notes on our fridge reminding you of things I know you won’t forget anyway. I want to have kids with you—“
“Kids?!” Eddie squeaked, pulling back from Richie’s gentle touches. “You want kids?”
Richie frowned at that, and there was a hint of alarm on his face, though Eddie wasn’t sure if it was at his own words or Eddie’s reaction to them. He sat up a bit on the couch, thoughtful.
“I mean,” he started, unsure. “I don’t know, I never really got to think about it before. But I think maybe, I might.” He looked up at Eddie questioningly. “Would—I mean. Do you want kids?”
“I...” Eddie trailed off, his answer a wordless half-thought. He tried to picture it, but then not too hard.
Because the truth was that Richie Tozier made Eddie feel like he could do things that, in any other place, he wouldn’t dream of doing. And the idea of raising kids with someone who made him feel like that sounded pretty fucking decent.
“Yeah,” he said finally on an exhale. “Yeah, I want that. With you.”
There was a breath—just one—and then Richie was leaning into him again, cupping the back of his neck and kissing him. Eddie re-situated himself on the couch, laying back against the arm rest to accommodate Richie’s weight over him, and kissed him back.
“I love you,” he murmured against his lips between kisses. He wondered absently if he’d ever actually said that to Richie before. But then he figured it didn’t really matter.