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[Just give him ten minutes to respond because baby knocked him off his feet. Venkman is truly the most patient Mimikyu in history because he’s spent the past ten minutes peacefully munching on a sandwich while Richie chatters excitedly and nervously about baby.

When Richie does, finally, respond, his hair is slightly less unruly.]

Eds, hon, I want it on the record I think robbing the creepy-ass hospital is the weirdest idea for a date I’ve ever heard. [A beat.] Sure, I’m in, they’re showing some romantic drama today in the cinema and it’s boring as fuck.

(Eddie, meanwhile, is blissfully ignorant to what just happened.)

It wasn't supposed to be a date. (......But......) It can be if you want it to be. I have no idea how to make stealing a bunch of needles romantic but maybe if we make out in the medication storage closet it could work.

It sure sounded like one. [Dropping into a suave-sounding Voice, like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca:] Hey, baby, come rob a hospital with me. There’s no one else I want to do it with. I thought I’d have to wear a fucking bowtie.

[No he didn’t, he’s just being facetious.]

Wow. The medication storage closet. So romantic. [Anyway, all kidding aside:] How’re we getting in? Is there a back door or do we just break a window?

I didn't call you baby!

(Except........Oh shit. He absolutely did. Now it's his turn to die. He turns a brilliant shade of red and makes some weird, distorted choking noise. For a few seconds he even covers his own face, groaning into his hands.)

Well. I'm allowed! People call their boyfriends that shit all the time!

(Him being defensive over absolutely nothing. He drops his hands. Focus, Eddie. Hospitals. Theft.)

I'd just go in the front door. We're kids, man. You're missing an ear, I'm missing an arm. All we gotta do is act pathetic enough and act confused if anyone is around and then we'd probably wind up in the pediatrics ward.

(Emotional manipulation 101. Which he is now realizing probably sounds bad.)

Not that I play off acting pathetic or anything. (Yes, he does. Sometimes mother like son but he swore he only did it when it served a good purpose. Usually.)

Didn’t say I didn’t like it. [A beat. Then:] Honeybunches.

[Look what you’ve done. You’ve opened up a new avenue of nicknames. He will never run out.]

I was thinking “break a window and steal whatever’s not nailed down” but that works better! Act like we got concussed on top of missing bits of us, yeah, they’d fall for that.

[He pauses, as if something just occurred to him. Then he lets out a breath.]

That’s if anyone’s gonna be there. The locals are just fucked now—I saw one walking into a wall over and over while walking Venkman yesterday. Who knows, maybe we’ll walk in and they won’t even realize we’re there.

Did you like it? (Because now he's intrigued by the idea of that sort of thing slipping into their relationship. He has a micro-fantasy about Richie seriously calling him 'babe' and decides it might give him the good kind of heart attack.

Instead, he gets 'honeybunches' and immediately rolls his eyes.)

Oh, get fucked.

(Richie's right though. It really might be a total wasteland. Eddie hadn't stolen too often from the hospital but when he had to, it was always to avoid Townsfolk-as-medical staff. Now though...)

You got a point, actually. Maybe we'll check out the front lounge to see what we're dealing with. If they're that busted up then we might as well bring some goddamn shopping carts with us and go wild with it.

Of course I liked it. Fluffybumps. [He snickers, because his number one hobby besides making Eddie and other people laugh is annoying the hell out of Eddie. So:] Sweetie-pie, cutie-patootie, loverman. I got more where that came from.

[But on to more serious matters.]

I could do recon. I can turn into older me and see if there's still someone who can string a sentence together in there, and if there's not we're all clear for stealing whatever's not nailed down. And maybe some that are. [A pause, then, contemplatively:] Hey, d'you think we could clear out their break room? They've probably got a better microwave and coffe-maker, and an extra fridge can't hurt.

Edited 2021-03-22 10:29 (UTC)

In that case, maybe I should never use any term of endearment ever again. (He was definitely going to because he is extremely weak for Richie Tozier.) Loverboy is better. You can call me loverman when we're like. Forty again.

(Cutie-patootie was terrible and he makes a repulsed face and is about to say something but decides it might be better for his sanity not to.)

I don't want you to turn into older-you when you're still recovering. (Granted Richie was nowhere near as in a delicate-healing stage as he had been but who would Eddie be if he didn't unnecessarily worry.)

We can check it out, yeah. We can make a few trips once we've figured it out.

Too late, babe. I'm gonna use 'em forever.

[There's a hum from the other end, like Richie's thinking this over.]

I'm fine now. And hey, they're supposed to help people who're in pain, right? If there's anyone inside who's still even vaguely coherent, they'll flip their shit when they see a guy in a shitton of pain hauling his ass inside. Never mind the one ear.

The coffee-maker we could fit in a wagon. The microwave too. The fridge, on the other hand—you know anyone with super-strength or anything who can lift a fridge?

Edited 2021-03-23 12:24 (UTC)

(No. Not 'Babe.' Eddie blushes even hotter than he did before and he has to physically resist the urge to scream. There were at least - at least ten to twenty fantasies he's had about Richie calling him babe but none of them did the real deal any justice. He can't even be bothered to compile a response because guhghguh.

Deep breath, kiddo. Deep breath.)

Yeah but I like to avoid you being in a bunch of unnecessary pain. Shocking, I know, but I kind of prefer my boyfriend generally be healthy and not suffering.

(Or if he was suffering Eddie wanted to be why obviously.)

And if we go in there and there's no one then you'll just be a big old bastard crying in pain for no reason.

(....Wagon was a good idea. Fridge though.)

Shiro said he'd come with us. He's got like. Muscle.

[muahahahaha

But anyway, after that little bit of bickering, Richie sobers up fast.]

It's just, like, ten minutes. And then I'll be a big ol' bastard who can boost you if you need help reaching the shit they stick on higher shelves.

[Huh, Shiro's coming, is he?]

Yeah, but does he have a pick-up? Not just for the fridge, for the heavier equipment too.

Mmm. Maybe. We'll see what's necessary when we get there, how bout that?

(Compromise? That's what people in relationships did right.)

And if we figure it's a good move we'll do that. We can do pre-recon to even see if anyone's in the building and then figure out a more internal recon or whatever.

(Richie was actually way better at planning this shit than him. Eddie was, ironically, 100% more reckless. He really would have just walked in without a second thought. This is why he wasn't the leader of the group.)

...Though...It is pretty tempting to make you boost me anywhere.

(Strong Man Fantasies.)

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I don't think he has a car period actually now that I'm thinking about it. I think he's one of those freaks who walks everywhere or like ...takes his lion. Wow. I have no idea. But Chloe has a pickup and between that and Christine we should be able to stock up a lot. Smores can pull a lot of weight too. Like more than you'd think.

Yeah I think we can manage that. And if Shiro's gonna be there I probably won't even need to do it. We can make him check.

[What's a father figure for if not to prod first into dangerous situations, right? Anyway, for all that Richie likes to play it down, when push comes to shove he's not too shabby at coming up with a plan.]

I'd have to boost you anyway even if you weren't tempted! You're fun-sized, I oughta carry a stepstool to this heist just so you can reach the good shit.

[He says, suffering through a growth spurt.]

Okay, so our options are: wagon, Shiro's lion, Christine, Chloe's pick-up, and your big-ass wolf. [Pause.] Would S'mores be okay with it if we like, got her in a harness like one of those sled dogs so she could pull heavy shit? Or do I have to bribe her with a steak, because like—I've only got burger steaks.

Exactly.

(Eddie's relieved for that option.

His mouth pinches up at the corner into a bit of a smirk-smile.)

I don't wanna break your poor back. I might be fun-sized, but it's not like you're out there carrying me around bridal-style without losing your breath after a minute.

(Okay, exaggeration, but what is the point of a boyfriend if one does not roast him.)

You can probably reach most top-shelf shit by now. You're starting to get freakish big.

(In speaking of that growth spurt. Eddie was chugging slowly along and he knew he was about to tap out at his full potential any inch now.)

Dude - yeah, totally. When I got her as a puppy she came from like this unique breed of snow dogs and they were all obsessed with that shit. She loves pulling stuff around with a harness. You pretty much just put the harness on her and direct her and she'll know what to do.

I cart Venkman around on my shoulder all the time, you think you're any fucking heavier than he is? You? [He gives an exaggerated snort of laughter.] Every time I put food in front of him it's just gone in a minute flat, if anything he's heavier than you. My back can fucking handle you.

[No it can't.]

Starting to? Eddie, I'm already fucking huge. Bigger than ol' Milton Berle, even. [...he's not talking about height.]

Cool! So we can just rig a wagon up to the harness and point her to the Goodbye Home, and voila, we have extra appliances.

So you're saying I coulda been riding you around town instead of a car? I would have upgraded weeks ago. (There's some sort of layered joke there probably.)

You'd snap in less than five minutes.

(He definitely doesn't buy that.

Eddie raises his brows at Richie's proclamation and then snorts loudly.)

Oh yeah, I'm sure you are.

(He'll be merciful this One Time with him.)

That sounds like a pretty rock-solid plan, yeah.

[In the most saccharine voice possible:] Oh, sweetie-bumps, all you had to do was ask. This ride’s open alllll day.

[No it’s not, but he couldn’t resist the double entendre.]

I definitely am. Just ask your uncle.

[Well. At least he’s not making your mom jokes anymore, but this is barely any better.]

Yeah? [He brightens up on being told his plan is rock-solid, actually. Attention is great and all, but positive attention feels damn good to have.] We’d just need a big enough wagon for a refrigerator. And ropes to tie on it so it doesn’t fall off.

(God damn it. He gives a long, miserable groan.)

Richie, if I sat in your lap in even a slightly suggestive way your brain would be obliterated. Your sex jokes don't have the same weight when I'm dating you and know for a fact that you're like-

(He wiggles his fingers.)

A total prude.

(As if Eddie were any better. See he'd feel bad about saying this but Richie's asking for it, okay. With fucking terrible jokes.)

Y'know the least you could do is upgrade to sex jokes about me. Your boyfriend. Instead of some crusty old dude. Like isn't there some weird appeal for dudes like you who like objectifying the hell out of their significant others?

(Eddie that idea's not any better either. What the hell, guys.)

Yeah. (--Cute.) Let's worry about all the medical shit first, genius, and then we can figure out the fridge stuff. We should probably put the fridge in Chloe's truck. But we probably still need ropes.

[Sure enough, Richie splutters on the other end of the line. Somewhere in the background, there's a distant cooing noise and the sound of a plastic bag ripping right open. At least Venkman's entertained.]

I don't—[How to talk about it? He sighs.] When it comes to the dirty stuff, I need...I dunno, distance. Like, I can joke about your uncle's dick because I've never even met the guy, if he exists, [and he could joke about Bev doing half the school when he wasn't friends with her,] but I can't joke about, say, Varian's, because we're friends. It's not as funny if I know somebody and I know better things to joke about with them.

Also, if we're being serious here, if I ever do see you even half-naked at any point in time my brain would melt right out of my ears and I just wouldn't be able to respond, I'm not gonna lie. And I'm supposed to fuckin' joke about the idea?

[He can barely approach it without his brain turning into a pile of mush! He cannot make dirty jokes about Eddie.]

Oof, yeah, okay, you're right. What kinda medical shit do we need? Painkillers, anesthesia, surgical instruments?

Edited 2021-04-03 11:27 (UTC)

Yeah, fine.

(Eddie kind of got it only not entirely because what was the point.)

Not gonna lie I would be pretty pissed if you were going around talking that way about other guys we did know, yeah. (Eddie could barely handle Connor Bowers existing. Lord knows he would combust on the spot if he had to suffer some dumb dick joke about a mutual friend.

Eddie scoffs outright at the idea of Richie dying on the spot. It felt oddly good to know he might have that kind of sway over him. But some part of him realized maybe he wanted the crude jokes thrown at him. But he has no idea how to word that without sounding weird.)

Well. Expect me to keep calling out your dumb sex jokes then.

(That would have to be enough.)

Probably all the above. I definitely need way more needles. And harnesses. I’ll make a list.

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