A Bed For Two ✔️ Reddie

Monday Morning

Bev was helping Mike pack up the car with their luggage. In the kitchen, Ben was whipping up bacon sandwiches for the road. He'd asked Mike if he needed to make something else for Stan, but Mike knew that he wasn't kosher. It wasn't a long drive back to Derry, but they had school to get to.

'Are the downstairs lot not up yet?' Bev asked, her voice strained as she lifted Ben's bag into the trunk.

Mike shook his head. 'Do you want to give them another knock?'

'Okay,' she said, and jogged back inside. She dipped her head into Bill and Stan's room first with a cheerful, 'Are you guys up yet?'

Stan and Bill were almost dressed, though they looked groggy, like they hadn't slept much.

Stan yawned, 'Yeah, yeah. Nearly there.'

Bill sniffed, 'D-do I smell b-b-bacon?'

Bev nodded, 'Yeah, Ben's making food for the road.'

Bill moaned, 'T-tell him I love h-him.'

Stan shot Bill a look that Beverly didn't see. She was too busy laughing and trotting over to the other end of the hallway to Richie and Eddie's bedroom. She entered with a gentle, cheerful, 'Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. Ben's making,' she started, then her mouth dropped open.

Richie and Eddie didn't stir as Bev ran back to Stan and Bill's room, snickering excitedly. She opened the door, 'Oh my God, you have to come and see this. So cute, my God.'

'W-what?' Bill asked, but Beverly didn't say, just vanished to the kitchen to hound Ben and Mike.

Stan furrowed his brow and exited the room. He trotted quickly down the corridor, silent, with Bill hot on his heels, and poked their heads into Richie and Eddie's room.

Richie and Eddie were asleep in the middle of the bed, spooning one another, hands quite clearly linked together. Richie's nose was buried in Eddie's hair as he snored.

Bill smirked, 'Well, well, well. You d-d-don't see that e-every day.'

Stan shot him another look.

'What?' Bill whispered, then realised what Stan was assuming. 'No,' Bill refuted. 'No w-way. They just f-f-fell asleep. M-maybe they were c-cold, I don't know. This d-d-doesn't mean anything.'

Before Stan could say anything to the contrary, the other Losers approached from behind them, crowding into the threshold to observe the rare sight before him. Suddenly, Stan felt like he was bird-watching: silent, motionless.

Between warm chuckles, Mike whispered, 'Shouldn't we wake them up?'

Ben wrinkled his nose. 'They look so,' he started, unable to finish his sentence with words that by definition seemed unattributable to Richie or Eddie, let alone together.

Finally, Stan spoke loudly, 'Richie, Eddie, it's time to get up.'

The sleeping boys groaned for a moment, then their eyes snapped open wide, comically large as they realised how compromising the position they found themselves in was. Richie, slowly, like an owl, twisted his neck to see just how royally they were busted.

'Oh, fucking hell,' he muttered, as his eyes were met by five other pairs clustered in the doorway.

'M-morning,' Bill said.

Releasing their embrace, the boys shunted up to lean their backs against the headboard. With a sigh, Richie said, 'We're never gonna fucking hear the end of this.'

Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't have words. He didn't have the energy or mental capacity to come up with a joke, come up with an excuse or explanation. Brimming with anxiety, under the safety of the covers, he placed his hand in Richie's and squeezed, to let him know that he wasn't okay.