No One But You ✔️ Reddie

Thirty

Richie's last show was a resounding success. The flight from Maine to LA was gruellingly long. There was a celebratory party organised for their return. Bev, Ben, Mike, Bill and Audra were all able to attend.

Bev announced that she was ready to begin designing again, under her own name. Ben had a new project to construct a museum wing in Washington D.C. Mike talked about his planned trip to Tokyo. Bill's book had been selected for a film adaptation, and Audra was set to star.

The party concluded at an ungodly hour of the morning. Richie and Eddie crashed out on their bed and slept for nearly sixteen hours.

Richie awoke to the smell of pancakes cooking in the kitchen. He groaned and got out of bed, shoving his glasses on his face. He sniffed his armpits and knew he needed a shower. His hair was unruly and wild, tangled. He cracked his knuckles and then his back.

He yawned as he came into the kitchen. 'I love you,' he greeted, when he saw the stack of pancakes on the kitchen counter.

Eddie was draped in one of Richie's merchandise T-shirts. He was on his second cup of coffee already. The stubble was poking through on his chin. His feet ached and were cold, even in his socks and slippers combination. 'Good afternoon,' he said.

They decided to eat out on the patio, since it was such a nice day. Across the garden, a goldfinch settled on the fence. Eddie smiled and thought of Stan.

Richie stood once he'd finished eating and walked to where the stone slabs met the grass. He heard Eddie stand up and follow him. 'It's been a great year, but I've got to say, I'm glad to be home,' he said. 'Don't you think Eddie?'

Richie turned around. Eddie was on the ground. On one knee. There was a navy-blue velvet box in his hand. Inside was a ring.

'What the fuck?' Richie garbled.

'Richie,' Eddie began carefully.

Richie put both his hands behind his head. 'What the fuck?' he said again, quieter, his eyes wide.

'Richie, I love you,' Eddie said.

Richie laughed nervously and covered his mouth, 'Holy fucking shit.'

'Are you gonna let me do this?' Eddie complained.

Richie nodded, 'Yeah. Yeah, go on.'

Eddie shuffled and started again, a great beaming smile on his face, 'Richie, I love you. There is no one else I would rather fight a demon alien clown entity with. Twice. You're the biggest fucking asshole on the planet and my best friend and the love of my life.' He sighed, 'What do you say, Trashmouth? Want to marry me?'

'Fuck yeah, Spaghetti,' Richie said, nodding. 'I really do.'

Eddie stood and removed the ring from the box. Richie grabbed it and rammed it onto his left hand. He grabbed Eddie's face and kissed him. Then they wandered back inside and slumped on the sofa.

'Are you surprised?' Eddie asked.

'I'm really fucking surprised.' Richie gushed. He put on a Southern accent, 'I feel like the luckiest bitch at the ball.' He sat back. 'When did you have time to get a ring?'

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek. 'I actually bought it before we left California.'

Richie melted, 'You did?'

'Yeah, then I thought that gave me a year to analyse the risks and see if I still thought it was a good idea,' Eddie joked.

Richie jostled him, 'Guess I passed the test.'

'Fuck no,' Eddie refuted, 'You failed. Badly. You're an asshole. I'm just an idiot.'

Richie laughed, 'You are an idiot.' He lay down and put his head in Eddie's lap. 'Fucking hell. We're getting married.'