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Eddie is exhausted. As a general rule. Essentially, he’s usually in enough meetings, classes, training, and general rounds and chores. He barely ever gets any nights off, and when he does, he’s usually too tired to even enjoy it.
That’s why meeting Richie Tozier was such an anomaly.
No matter how tired he was that day, and no matter how boring that party was, Richie found a way to make that night into one of the best nights of Eddie’s life. Richie made him feel alive in a way that no one else has ever before. Richie planted a small seed of joy at temporarily living a normal life. A normal life with an extraordinary man.
But, at the same time, he knew that it was likely that Richie would never want to see him again. He has a real life. He hates the monarchy, and with good reason. He doesn’t have time to be destroying his life by dating a prince.
It was even more surprising when Richie showed up at his window at almost midnight, fumbling against the closed window, and grin manically.
Eddie rubs his eyes, awaking himself. He’s barely conscious, and cannot quite grasp reality. He originally thinks that Richie is a hallucination induced by sleep deprivation, and almost goes back to sleep. But, Richie’s light knocking continues, and Eddie becomes lucid enough to get up and open the window.
“What the Hell,” Eddie greets him.
“Ah, good day to you too, good sir,” Richie replies and promptly falls into Eddie’s room.
“Sh!” Eddie snaps, moving aside as Richie falls, hissing at him lowly to “Be quiet.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Richie apologizes, genuinely, standing up with his hands in the air. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see me again.”
Eddie crosses his arms and purses his lips. “No. Most people are… put off by me.”
“You’re a prince!” Richie teases. “Aren’t you meant to be charming?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, glancing out the window. “You’re going to die if you keep climbing up the walls.”
Richie accepts the change of topic, and Eddie is thankful. The taller man shrugs, his unruly hair bouncing slightly on his head. “Maybe. It would be worth it.”
Eddie grunts disbelievingly. “Would you like to sit? Or maybe have a drink?”
“I’d like our meeting this time to be untainted by alcohol,” Richie smiles sweetly. “Not that last time wasn’t enjoyable. I would just prefer to get to know you better, now.”
Eddie tries to stop himself from flushing up to his ears. That is, oddly, the kindest phrase anyone has ever laid upon him. Richie is much sweeter than Eddie could have ever expected, based on the one time he’s met him. He had seemed abrasive and crude to Eddie, in ways that Eddie could never even dream to be.
No. He’s getting much too attached to this man. He needs to stop.
Richie waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “Hello, my Liege, are you alright?”
Eddie blinks. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“So,” Richie starts, with a smile and plops himself down onto Eddie’s bed, “How are you?”
Eddie sits down next to him, tucking his hands under his thighs. “Tired.”
“Hah,” Richie grins. “I’ve interrupted your sleep, haven’t I?” He asks, without remorse.
Eddie nudges his leg. “Ass.”
Richie smirks and his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. “Sure. Aren’t princes supposed to have more advanced vocabulary?”
Eddie pulls his hand out from under his leg and smacks Richie’s shoulder a few times. “Shush.”
“You’re enchanted with me,” Richie chirps, a smug smile fixed on his lips.
Eddie, this time, does flush with a warm, pink glow all the way to his upper cheekbones, a warmth filling his stomach. Richie’s jesting accusation was entirely truthful, and that was the problem. Eddie is infatuated with the dirty boy who’s sitting in Eddie’s hopelessly expensive bed. He’s possibly alright with Richie dirtying up his possessions, though.
“Don’t you worry,” Richie monotones, with a glint in his eye, as he leans back, “I’m enchanted with you too.”
Eddie flushes even more red and glances away from the unruly man.
Abruptly, The Prince stands up, and says, “I’m going to get us water. You, uh, just climbed. A lot. Yes.”
Richie sits up, amused at Eddie’s flustered attitude and nods. “That I did.” He still has a red irritation to his cheeks from his physical exertion, and the cold of the night. His face looks, overall, awkward, with too many sharp angles, and extreme colors. (Too pale, but when color is drawn in, it takes over all of his features.) His nose is long, extended, like an exaggerated drawing that one would pay for at a street vendor. He’s the opposite of ordinary, in the “odd” sense of the word, and he draws Eddie inexplicably in, like a crow in search of particularly shiny jewelry, and Eddie just caught a glimpse of a crown.
Eddie rips his gaze away from Richie’s face again, and leaves the room. A knight stops him at first, (“Where are you going?” “Just to get water.”), before letting Eddie on his way. Eddie is back in a matter of minutes, as there’s still leftover water from the well in the kitchen. He brings two glasses upstairs for him and Richie, the same guard stopping him, (“Why do you have two?” “I tend to get very thirsty.”), before, once again, letting Eddie on with a look of suspicion.
Eddie nudges his heavy bedroom door open with his foot, (becoming proficient at this after years of residing in the same room), immediately being able to view Richie kicking his legs on Eddie’s bed and his leather shoes are long abandoned beside the right side of the bed frame.
Richie smiles at the sight of him, kicking his feet even harder, akin to a prepubescent girl. (Though, ironic or not, Eddie can barely tell.) “Good morn, Eds,” Richie rejoices.
“It is not morning,” Eddie grumps in response.
“Where is your sense of whimsy, my dear?” Richie graciously accepts his cup of water, after Eddie gestures at him to sit up and Richie complies.
“My sense of whimsy was slowly burned after years of living in my own personal Hell,” Eddie takes a sip of his own water, watching Richie eye his own.
“Oh!” Richie gleefully glances up, seemingly in delight by Eddie’s mediocre childhood, possibly as a source of connection to his own mediocre childhood. Then, he drinks the whole contents of his glass in less than five seconds, if Eddie had to put in a guess. He finishes off with a puff of hot air and a backhanded wipe to his mouth. “The castle isn’t as good as it seems, is it?” Richie rhetorically asks, with slick lips twisted up in an amused smile.
Eddie sighs. “You’re right, I suppose.”
“I am,” Richie confidently says and nods.
Eddie places his glass on the wooden floor, and Richie mimics this, placing his empty cup next to Eddie’s full one. As Eddie sits on the bed, Richie grabs his hand and pulls it close to his face. Then placing it on his cheek, his cold, spindly fingers still pressed against Eddie’s warm hand.
“Come on,” Richie murmurs, and places his hand on the side of Eddie’s jaw and guides Eddie’s face to his. Eddie lets him, dazed, and enraptured by Richie’s brown eyes.
Richie leans his forehead against Eddie’s and smiles. “Hi,” he whispers.
“Hello there,” Eddie meekly responds, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest, a bird in captivity in need of escaping and bursting into the freedom of the open sky. Eddie tries to force his body into tranquility, to no avail.
“You’re adorable,” Richie mutters, igniting a wild burn of embarrassment, annoyance, and a belligerent feeling of delight in Eddie’s stomach.
“Be quiet,” Eddie snaps, though his face betrays his fury by showing his stark embarrassment.
“One way you can make me,” Richie sing-songs.
Eddie hesitates before placing a tentative, fluttering kiss on Richie’s lips. The taller boy’s lips are still cold and his nose brushes against Eddie’s cheek, still cold and tinted red.
Richie lets out a content sigh, and kisses Eddie again once they pull away, firmer and longer. His fingers slide all the way to the nape of Eddie’s neck, playing with Eddie’s freshly trimmed hair that sits there. Eddie clutches onto Richie’s shirt like a lifeline, one of his hands still resting on Richie’s (now) warm cheek.
Eddie’s chest feels uncomfortably warm, and it is only becoming warmer as Richie’s chest presses to his.
Richie groans slowly when Eddie nips at his lower lip, and grunts when Eddie whines because Richie retaliated by pulling his hair. A new communication method that Eddie isn’t familiar with is forming; a system of incoherent noises and hums to create a melody and feeling throughout their endeavors.
Richie lays Eddie down on the bed, and-
---
Eddie wakes up alone, exhausted, but with no regret.
---
This becomes somewhat of a routine for the two of them.
Richie climbs up the side of the castle and into Eddie’s room up to three times a week, and they talk and kiss. Richie seems in awe of the fact that he’s in a secret relationship with The Prince, while still fully believing that he had all of the resources to “woo” Eddie on any basis. Eddie disagrees, saying that their newfound affections held for one another were simply a one in a thousand chance; could not have happened in any other universe, world, even another day. (He’s lying, though. The act of Richie and Eddie becoming lovers could be nothing but fate. He just doesn’t want Richie to know he thinks that.)
Everything was going quite swell, generally, but the two, encased in their own love, forgot one crucial detail of meeting in Eddie’s bedroom so often; just about anyone could walk in.
They were forced to remember this in quite a difficult way on the night of April fifteenth.
Richie and Eddie had been kissing under the covers of Eddie’s bed, legs entangled and arms firmly around each other’s backs, whispering quiet phrases of approval to each other.
It takes a moment for Eddie to notice, but the door to his room opens. Once he does notice though, Richie seems to notice at the same time, and they rip apart from each other to stare at the intruder with wide eyes.
Stanley Uris steps into Eddie’s room, and it takes a moment for him to notice that Richie is laying in bed with Eddie.
“Sorry, Eddie, but we need to ride to visit your uncle tomorrow, it’s important. And, I am aware that this is very short notice, and very late at night- wait, are you in bed with Richie Tozier?” Stan gawks.
Richie immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and throws his head under the covers to block himself from Stan. Whether it’s to stop seeing Stan, or to stop Stan from seeing him, Eddie is unsure.
There’s a stark silence for a few moments, each second stabbing its way into Eddie’s stomach as he becomes more sharply aware that he’s supposed to be saying something in response.
“No?” He tries to lie firmly, but it comes out as unsure as a bird attempting flight for the first time. He clears his throat and tries again: “No.”
“I saw him,” Stan splutters, then seems to pull himself together. “He is under the covers right now, Edward,” he settles, rubbing his pointer finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose, exasperated.
“That… didn’t happen?” Eddie attempts, but, just then, Richie comes back up to the surface, pouting like a child.
“Screw you, Stan,” he grumps. “This was supposed to be a private thing.”
“So- this is a thing. Prince Edward and Richie Tozier are in a secret relationship. HA,” he barks, short and sarcastically. “This will make everything drastically more difficult for me, but that doesn’t stop this from being the funniest thing that’s ever happened, possibly ever,” he laughs, starting to be unable to control his manic giggles.
“Stan-” Eddie starts, but is immediately cut off.
“Oh, Lord,” Stan jabbers. “I am telling Bill. And, Mike and Ben. Jesus, Eddie, what have you gotten yourself into?!” He near-howls, before leaving the room, letting his giggles echo into the hallway outside.
Eddie gapes at the door for a minute, before turning to Richie, who seems to bear a similar expression on his face. Then, Richie bursts out into a grin.
“Wonderful,” Richie beams and grabs the front of Eddie’s shirt, pulling him into a bruising kiss.
“Wait-” Eddie murmurs, between short, intense kisses, “What are we going to do?”
“Who fucking cares?” Richie responds in a gasp. “I am so in love with you, darling.”
Eddie gasps, against his warm lips, running his hands through Richie’s hair in a sense of reckless adrenaline of being found out. “I love you too,” he utters. “I’ve never seen Stanley giggle in that way.”
Richie chuckles, pecks Eddie shortly again, before engaging him in a slower, more languid kiss. “Me neither.”
---
After the Stanley Debacle of April, Richie and Eddie devise a new method of meeting. Richie shows Eddie an abandoned garden in the woods in which they meet a few times a week, usually conveying times through letters that are passed along by Bill or, sometimes, Stan. Occasionally, they still meet in the warmth of Eddie’s room, but barely ever anymore. It’s much easier for the two of them to just meet in a new place. Live and learn, as some say.
Either way, no matter where the two meet, Eddie is way too attached to Richie to give him up now.