Plz write a richie/eddie fic for me. A coffeeshop AU????
They’re here again. The Couple.
They’re not really a couple. At least, Bev doesn’t think they are. They don’t act like a couple. Of course, they could be hiding it–it’s a small town, and outside of the college campus, the town of Derry doesn’t look too kindly upon gay folks. But something tells Bev that they aren’t a couple. She wants them to be. But they might not even be gay.
Yeah, she thinks with a snort. If they’re straight, so am I.
(She’s not, for the record.)
“’Ello, ‘ello, gov’nah,” Richie says to her, drumming his hands on the counter. He always orders with one of his voices, and he gives her the names of his voices in place of his own. She’s scrawled Buford Kissdrivel and Tootles and Officer Nell and a whole host of other names on coffee cups, but never Richie. The only reason she knows his name is because his friend is constantly saying it, in varying shades of irritation.
“What’ll it be, boyo?” she asks in a fair Irish accent.
“Oh,” he says, switching over to his Officer Nell voice. “Just a wee iced mocha there, lass.”
Bev doesn’t know what emboldens her to ask, “So when are you going to ask him out?”
Richie blinks. He’s wearing glasses today, and his eyes look huge and owlish behind the lenses. “You’ve noticed.” He isn’t doing a voice, and that’s how Bev knows how serious it is.
“Yeah. So?” she taps the tablet and then flips it over so Richie can sign it. “What’s the holdup?”
“Hi Eddie, we’ve been best friends since second grade and I think I’m in love with you,” Richie says, frowning at the tablet. “Yeah, that’ll go over real well.”
“Well,” she says, getting to work on that mocha. “Considering he’s in love with you too, I think it will.”
She isn’t looking, but she can feel Richie blinking at her. “You think so?”
“Darling,” she says with a smile, “I know so.”
She makes Richie’s coffee and he goes back to the table and they don’t talk about it anymore. They don’t talk until Tuesday, and even then it’s just for him to order a coffee in another stupid voice. But something is different today. She can’t put her finger on what it is at first, but finally she realizes: they’re so quiet. They’re normally so loud, constantly talking over each other and clamoring to be the wittiest person at the table, but today they’re talking in low murmurs and smiling at each other.
Her suspicions are confirmed when Richie reaches across the table and twines his fingers in Eddie’s. They’re grinning at each other with these giant, stupid grins, and it’s so fucking cute.
Richie gets up for a second coffee eventually, and when he does, Bev meets him at the counter with a stupid grin of her own.
“Shut the fuck up,” Richie tells her.
“And here I was going to give you a congratulatory drink on the house.”
“I say, Miz Marsh,” he says, sliding right into Buford Kissdrivel. “Would you be a deah and get me anothah iced mocha?”
She does. “So?”
“So we’re in love and we spent all weekend making out in his dorm room, okay?”
Bev grins. “Good.” She gives him the drink for free and watches him go back to Eddie. They hold hands for at least another hour, and Bev has a stupid grin on her face the entire time.