[It's the simplicity of it at that does him in, faster than admitting his feelings which they both knew were there. Richie would wake up from a bad nightmare and Eddie would just be there, wordlessly, and sit with him without any demands or grief. They fell asleep a tangle of limbs the same way they always had when they were young. When Richie worked himself too hard going over lines, he'd wake up in his bed and not remember how he got there but he knew, deep down, that it was Eddie ushering up in the haze of weariness so that he wouldn't hurt his back or work himself sick.
The same thing remained even with 1200 miles of distance between them. Richie just liked talking to Eddie so he'd send him pictures while he was on tour or stupid texts. Things like memes, or funny bits he'd seen before his slot, just to make Eddie smile.
He hoped it made him smile.
When he was in Florida he sat down with Mike, who seemed to know immediately that something was wrong. They talked, and since Mike was the only one that never left understood immediately and was empathetic about the whole thing. It had been one of the most awkward and profound moments he'd ever had simultaneously. Mike had made a comment then too.
We were always better together. All of us, but especially the two of you. I've never seen anyone more perfect for each other. Sometimes it's like you shared a soul.
Richie, of course, quipped back with something like "These Senior Citizens will make a love guru out of you yet," but he knew it was true. The tour went like it usually did - frantic, lots of light, less sleep, and constant movement. It's not as fantastic as its all chalked up to me.
When he gets home he immediately drops his shit in the living room, toes out of his shoes, and sits back on his chaise in his office to massage his own feet. They ached something awful from the flight and his two weeks of stage shows. He'd half expected Eddie to be home, but he wasn't bothered by him working late. Eddie was always fluttering around like some hyperfocused hummingbird.
Richie's got his thumb pressed into the arch of his foot through the sock when he hears him call out.]
no subject
The same thing remained even with 1200 miles of distance between them. Richie just liked talking to Eddie so he'd send him pictures while he was on tour or stupid texts. Things like memes, or funny bits he'd seen before his slot, just to make Eddie smile.
He hoped it made him smile.
When he was in Florida he sat down with Mike, who seemed to know immediately that something was wrong. They talked, and since Mike was the only one that never left understood immediately and was empathetic about the whole thing. It had been one of the most awkward and profound moments he'd ever had simultaneously. Mike had made a comment then too.
We were always better together. All of us, but especially the two of you. I've never seen anyone more perfect for each other. Sometimes it's like you shared a soul.
Richie, of course, quipped back with something like "These Senior Citizens will make a love guru out of you yet," but he knew it was true. The tour went like it usually did - frantic, lots of light, less sleep, and constant movement. It's not as fantastic as its all chalked up to me.
When he gets home he immediately drops his shit in the living room, toes out of his shoes, and sits back on his chaise in his office to massage his own feet. They ached something awful from the flight and his two weeks of stage shows. He'd half expected Eddie to be home, but he wasn't bothered by him working late. Eddie was always fluttering around like some hyperfocused hummingbird.
Richie's got his thumb pressed into the arch of his foot through the sock when he hears him call out.]
Mhm. Yeah. I'm in here.