❪ it's been a few months since they've had the chance to go out together. between his work and richie's touring, it seemed like time together was just impossible to figure out. they found other ways of being together even without physically being in the same room but eddie can't deny how much he misses having rich around him and, so, it's one night after one of his local shows that they decide to hang around downtown and visit a couple of local places.
it's early morning, eddie already yawning, when they happen to cross paths with someone who clearly wasn't a fan of a few things beyond rich's comedy. although after having to fight a demonic killer clown from literal space, ignoring homophobic jackasses was almost easy for him. he knows it's not so easy for rich, maybe if they had just stuck prodding at richie and his jokes and didn't bring him or their relationship into the picture.
by now, he's trying to urge richie to come on and leave but fuck― he should have figured it wouldn't be that simple. jackasses like this, like bowers. they're all the same.
so eddie can't say he's surprised when the first punch is thrown and it sails by, barely missing his face. he's already moving to put his arms around richie but he's taller, stronger and his own punch to the jersey wearing asshole makes a sickening sound. it's something of a haze after that between richie getting hit and him promptly losing his shit on the guy.
by the time things are said and done and cops are called, richie is bruised and his knuckles are bleeding while eddie sports his own bloody nose.
the uber home is quiet because what was there to say? he's not mad at rich but rather this entire situation. mad― because he's stemming the flow of blood from his nose on a night that was supposed to be... well, for the both of them. instead, he keeps quiet but keeps a tight if shaky grip on richie's hand. even as he fumbles for his keys, he keeps hold and finally manages to push the door open with a tired sound. ❫
magics something hopefully reasonable together
it's early morning, eddie already yawning, when they happen to cross paths with someone who clearly wasn't a fan of a few things beyond rich's comedy. although after having to fight a demonic killer clown from literal space, ignoring homophobic jackasses was almost easy for him. he knows it's not so easy for rich, maybe if they had just stuck prodding at richie and his jokes and didn't bring him or their relationship into the picture.
by now, he's trying to urge richie to come on and leave but fuck― he should have figured it wouldn't be that simple. jackasses like this, like bowers. they're all the same.
so eddie can't say he's surprised when the first punch is thrown and it sails by, barely missing his face. he's already moving to put his arms around richie but he's taller, stronger and his own punch to the jersey wearing asshole makes a sickening sound. it's something of a haze after that between richie getting hit and him promptly losing his shit on the guy.
by the time things are said and done and cops are called, richie is bruised and his knuckles are bleeding while eddie sports his own bloody nose.
the uber home is quiet because what was there to say? he's not mad at rich but rather this entire situation. mad― because he's stemming the flow of blood from his nose on a night that was supposed to be... well, for the both of them. instead, he keeps quiet but keeps a tight if shaky grip on richie's hand. even as he fumbles for his keys, he keeps hold and finally manages to push the door open with a tired sound. ❫
Go sit down. I gotta grab my first aid kit...