achievement unlocked π (part nine) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
AVAILABLE ON AO3
Inspiration: this prompt + BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish
Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.
TWs: innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), cursing, brief mention of toxic relationships, and shameless flirting.
[[A/N: Yes, that is the Snoop Dog Affirmations Song and L'AMOUR DE MA VIE by Billie Eilish, what about it? I recommend streaming both. Although the Billie song is probably ranked like 3rd or 4th out of the entire album (BIRDS OF A FEATHER and THE GREATEST obvi). Also the parasites possessed me and made me write this. Enjoy :))]]
Richie was not above treating himself like the main character. Honestly, he thought everyone should. It's like self-love or whatever.
Steve told him he should, so he allowed himself some passes.
Currently, he was blasting a song -dancing around his kitchen as he cooked some chicken dish. He was actually stalking Gordon Ramsay's account and found it, and then, he convinced himself he could do it. And to be fair, he had a prevalent interest in cooking (maybe because he had to do it a lot growing up but still), so he might actually be able to make it. Plus, it was the simplest he could find (just chicken and a list of ingredients).
"There is no one better to be than myself," he sung, doing some sort of shuffle, before raising his voice, "-there is no one better to be than myself."
He slid along the floor with his socks, leaving the chicken on the counter with the seasonings mixed beside it in a bowl. Doing something very similar to the cha-cha in the Cha-Cha Slide, he moved toward the middle of his kitchen.
"Today is gonna be an amazing day," he repeated, "-today is gonna be an amazing day."
He moved back over to the counter, grabbing the bowl and dumping it onto the chicken.
"My feelings matter," Richie hummed along, busying himself with the other ingredients, "-my feelings ma-"
There was a buzz against the counter. Richie popped out of his thoughts, nearly instantly, and stopped singing. He skipped over to his phone to the beat.
e.kaspbrak is trying to videochat
Richie grinned.
"Hello, Spaghetti-" he called out (adjacent to a 'Hello, Vietnam!' impression), setting up his phone against the paper towels. The song continued to play on his home speaker, he did turn it down to hear him, though, "-what's up?"
He scanned over him, noting the much messier hair and peek of some sort of pastel t-shirt. Maybe a polo, actually-
Eddie scrunched up his nose (Richie thought it might be his favorite thing ever when he did that), a betraying little smile slipping onto his lips, "What the fuck are you listening to?"
π΅ 'I choose to be happy, I cho-' π΅
Richie faux gasped, fully turned to his phone, "Eds, you're breaking my heart."
"What?" Eddie laughed a little, "-I've never heard that shit in my life."
He placed a hand on his heart dramatically, as Richie Tozier does, "-You've never heard Doggyland's Affirmation Song?"
"No," Eddie answered -flatly, but still smiling.
"Wow," Richie shook his head, tsking, and moving to focus on his chicken, "-you have a lot to learn, Spaghetti. Luckily, I'm a great fucking teacher-"
Eddie decidedly ignored him, brown eyes smoothing over his hands (lingering for a second) -which were currently busy with his food, "What are you doing?"
Richie grinned, "Ah, my dear Eds, you have a front-row seat to Chef Tozier's famous chicken-"
"There's no fucking way you can cook," Eddie cut him off.
Richie pursed his lips, acting offended, "Why not?"
"You're fucking Trashmouth Tozier," Eddie pointed out, "-You ate Chef Boyardee last stream."
"SpaghettiOs, actually, if you're gonna insult me, get it right," Richie chimed, playfully, "-and I don't have the attention span to cook all the time. Plus, it's kinda boring cooking for myself. What am I supposed to do? 'Compliments to the chef', that's fucking me-"
"Fine," Eddie relented, teasing really, "-What are you making, Chef Tozier?"
"Uh," Richie pursed his lips, thinking back to the post, "-chicken...? Gordon's post didn't really have the name of the dish, other than like 'This is an amazing dish for your family!'. You know internet recipe type shit."
"Gordon?" Eddie asked, and Richie almost heard a little jealousy. It was cute.
"Ramsay," Richie clarified, smiling just a little bit.
"You're cooking a Gordon Ramsay recipe?!"
"Uh, yeah...?" Richie laughed, turning to the phone -raising an eyebrow, "-You know he posts those, right?"
Eddie puffed out his cheeks (in that cute little way he did when he was flustered), "Is it not like... fancy shit? Like fucking... gold leaf?"
"Eddie baby, it's not fucking escargot," Richie leveled, grinning (a little like he didn't want to be anywhere else), "-it's chicken."
"No, I fucking get that, asshole," Eddie clarified, a blush flickering up his cheeks (Richie wanted to know why so he could do it again), "-it's just Gordon Ramsay. He has like Michelin stars and shit."
"You think Gordon is snooty?" Richie questioned, voice in something like a salesman, "-You think he only caters to the fanciest of the fancy? No, my friend, he's for the underdogs, the average person-"
"Alright, alright," Eddie laughed, trying to play it off as frustrated, "-I fucking get it, Richie. You can stop now."
Richie snickered a little, before his mind buzzed over -entirely focused on the meal. That was his thing, he was either intently focused or literally in another dimension -absorbing fuck all. Now, though, he moved instinctively -brain lowered to a gentle hum. It always made him feel better, doing shit. Usually as a distraction (maybe when it all felt too loud), but still. It was nice.
Somewhere in his head, he noted that the song had changed.
π΅ 'But I need to confess, I told you a lie-' π΅
"I said you, you~" Richie hummed, busying his hands, "-were the love of my life-"
"Do you do this a lot?"
"Shit," Richie jumped, letting out a breath, "-I forgot you were there, Eds."
Eddie ignored it, thoughtfully looking at him -Richie couldn't quite label what exactly he was seeing in his eyes, "Do you?"
"Cook?" Richie questioned, to which Eddie nodded, "-Sometimes. I used to cook a lot when I was growing up, so I like to do it. It's just, isn't really, uh, fun when you're by yourself."
Richie watched Eddie's lips purse for a moment, brown eyes gently smoothing over his face. It made Richie roll his lips together, before ducking his head and making sure everything was mixed together -properly. Was it was the oven or the stove top-
"Well," Eddie finally spoke -leaning against his hand and just staring (Richie wasn't sure how to take it), "-you're not by yourself this time."
"I am not," Richie smiled at Eddie, tilting his head slightly -heart caught up in his throat a little, "-That is true, Eds."
Eddie paused, eyes smoothing over Richie (if he was honest with himself, in admiration). It made Richie want to do that thing where people jump in the air and snap their heels together (a heel click maybe?). Every time Eddie looked at him, he'd honestly do that -if he had a little less dignity, that is. Which he was kinda threading the needle honestly (especially since that would probably make Eddie laugh).
Which was, in retrospect, probably his favorite sound in the world. It made him woozy, sometimes, with just fucking... affection. And Richie wasn't sure how to like handle it, other than slipping out incredibly genuine compliments. He'd always been more of a touchy person, and acts of service (he really fucking liked doing things for people). So, he really couldn't like fully express his... feelings for Eddie. Not until he was like here, which he would be relatively soon. That's kind of fucking sick, actually-
"I can't cook for shit."
Richie spun to him at the words, tilting his head curiously (not unlike a puppy), "Seriously?"
"Yeah," Eddie breathed out, "-my Mom used to always cook for me. Something about being fucking healthy, I guess, and maybe... maybe controlling me. And then, the girlfriend she made me have did the same."
Richie stepped over to the phone now, leaning slightly on the counter, "What about boyfriends?"
Eddie pressed his lips together into a thin line, not quite looking at Richie. It looked a little like he was debating something.
Richie wanted to ask, and he almost did.
"Richie, you're like..." he started hesitantly, puffing up his cheeks like he was a little embarrassed -red bubbled up his face, "-the first boyfriend I've ever had."
Richie stalled in place (for two reasons: what he was saying and Eddie calling him his boyfriend), "What?"
"I've had my first kiss and shit like that," Eddie clarified, "-but I've never like officially went on a date-"
"What the fuck."
Eddie was fidgeting, maybe a little flustered, "I have no fucking clue why you're so surprised."
Richie didn't process those words, instead choosing to ask again, "You've never had a boyfriend, Eds?"
"I just fucking said that dumbass," Eddie answered, before rambling -maybe a little embarrassed, "-and it's really not that fucking surprising, some people don't even have their first kiss until their 20s-"
"No, Eddie, I'm not fucking judging you," Richie quickly clarified, stopping what he could easily see was a Kaspbrak spiral, "-You're just... You're so fucking cute, how have you never had a boyfriend?"
Eddie pressed his lips together, failing to hide a smile, "Just because you think I'm cute doesn't mean everyone does, dipshit."
"Eds, I'm so serious," Richie leveled, "-If I asked the groupchat right now, if they thought you were cute, they would all say yes."
"You're fucking ridiculous, Richie," Eddie shook his head, smiling.
"I'm gonna fucking do it," he grabbed his phone, closing out the call for a second, "-just you fucking wait, Kaspbrak."
"Richie, don't-"
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
do u guys think eds is cute ?
objective opinions
reddy.bevvy βοΈ
oh I know the answer to this one !!!
yes π
mike.me.up βοΈ
hell yeah
big.bill βοΈ
I don't know what he looks like?
benny.boy.official βοΈ
of course βΊοΈ
stan.the.man βοΈ
@/big.bill Ditto.
Richie had a photo he'd screenshotted once in one of their photo wars. (It was where they sent pictures back and forth until someone stopped. Richie particularly liked using haunting fucking filters.) This one though, was maybe the cutest, or maybe most beautiful thing in the world (to Richie at least).
He had his nose shriveled up, assumedly in response to Richie's selfie (which was probably some kind of fucked up) and he had like a half smile half frown. His hair was a little messy and his freckles were fairly obvious in the sun, and his brown eyes were the particular kind of shiny that people posted about. (Golden hour, he thinks.) So, they shimmered a kinda orange. Richie had been debating making it his phone background for like weeks.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
attached image
The replies were almost instant.
stan.the.man βοΈ
Yeah, and I'm very surprised he's dating your shitty ass.
Patty also says yes.
big.bill βοΈ
What the fuck? He's dating you?
He's like one tick away from a fucking puppy. Or maybe one of those grumpy little cats.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
fuck u guys
but also thanks for backing me up πππ
Richie grinned, eyes lingering on the photo for a second. My boyfriend, his mind chimed, and if he did an embarrassing dance that was for his eyes only, He's my boyfriend.
He let that word thrum under his skin for a few moments, before silently moving to go back to the call. Eddie wasn't back yet, probably scrolling through the responses. Or maybe off being a little flustered. Richie loved it when he got flustered, in the cute kinda way.
Humming along with a new song (one about shitty exes, he's pretty sure), Richie grabbed the chicken -was it stovetop or oven? On the spare thought that he mightβve written it down, Richie spun back to the other counter -eyes peering along the surface. He could try and find the post again, but then he'd have to stalk his fucking account and he posts so much-
"You're such a dick," chimed out through the air.
Richie spun on his toes, toward his phone, which he'd set in the same spot it was before.
"Whatever do you mean, Edward?" Richie playfully questioned, in a fancy (posh, if you will) British accent.
Eddie was smiling, but his face was a few shades redder at the moment than it was before. Richie wanted to pinch them, and maybe kiss them, so much that Eddie would get sick of it. Fuck long distance-
"You're a shithead," Eddie chimed, "-Are you almost ready to fucking cook that? You've been prepping for so fucking long-"
"Yeah, yeah," Richie confirmed, before skimming over the counter -eyes snagging on a sticky note, bingo. Snatching it up, he read it (oven) and the instructions before turning and grabbing his phone, "-save the dirty talk for the bedroom, yada, yada, etcetera, etcetera."
Eddie rolled his eyes, as Richie focused on putting the chicken in the oven (turned out he had forgotten that he had already fucking preheated it, sometimes he was truly a lost cause). With practiced hands, he slid on the oven mitts (a little like he was a surgeon in a medical drama). Which he decided to run with.
"My god, he's unresponsive! We must put him into the incubator," he dramatically opened the oven, sliding the chicken into it (all the while lowering his voice), "-so as to preserve his life-"
Turning to face the other side, he made his voice higher, "But, doctor, he's allergic to incubation!"
He turned back the other way and spoke, with a low voice, "It's the only way, Violet. We mu-"
"You do that a lot?"
Richie blinked again, turning to the camera -his glasses fogged up from the heat (he's pretty sure he heard some screenshotting). Taking off his glasses, he brought them to the end of his shirt and wiped them clean -situating them right back onto his face. And with that same breath, set the timer on the oven.
Finally, he faced his phone, "I told ya, Eds, I used to do skits by myself when I was like 12. Of fucking course I do it a lot."
Eddie was smiling at him with soft kinda eyes (it made Richie's heart flutter), "So, it's something you don't really show people?"
"Uh," Richie was suddenly incredibly embarrassed, "-no. It's kinda a personal thing that I just... sometimes do. I didn't even think about the fact that you'd see it-"
"It's cute," Eddie chimed, before Richie could get very far -his head tilted and leaning on the palm of his hand (his elbow against a table, assumedly) and Richie nearly fainted, "-Reminds me of your streams."
He almost asked what part of his streams were cute, of all things, but then he remembered the celebrity crush thing. Eddie just fucking watching him and liking him and his stupid face and his shitty jokes. God, he really needed to fucking focus-
"My streams?"
"Just you genuinely fucking enjoying yourself," Eddie clarified, still staring at him -dreamily somehow (Richie Tozier? Dreamy? Yeah, somebody fucked something up-), "-it's really fucking cute."
Richie thinks for a second about the fact that other people would maybe call him a dork, or a nerd maybe. How his old boyfriends would tell him to stop, that he was acting weird, and it was embarrassing them. That he was embarrassing. And then, he thinks about Eddie. Who was smiling at him (in a way that made Richie want to maybe lie down and daydream every physical scenario that he could about the guy) and softly complimenting him for shit that other people would hate. Had hated before.
Richie just grinned, red splotchy patches climbing up his face (and something in his stomach swirling), "Thanks, Spaghetti."
Now, it was a day later, and Richie was trying to call Bev. An emergency. But not like an actual emergency, but an emergency-
He rolled his eyes at himself -tapping the pencil along the paper he'd brought out. At the current moment, he was sat at his counter (on a barstool), pursing his lips together, and listening to the phone ring. Bev was taking a little long to answer, Richie had a running theory that it was because of Ben.
Well, his theory wasn't just that Ben was distracting her. It was a wider-scale thing, he had the running theory that something was going on between them. That maybe they didn't even recognize.
The funny thing about the Losers Club is that a lot of them, weirdly, already knew each other beforehand. Like previously said, Mike and Ben grew up together and by fucking impossible chance met back up through Twitch. And now he guessed with Eddie, he was connected to the two of them and Richie (being in his chat in the first place). Another example of this phenomenon (that Richie was still in the process of naming, it had to be fucking good) was Bev and Bill.
Stanley, after finding Richie, did some sleuthing and found Bill. He was actually bigger than both of them (even though at the time they were on the up and up, and now Richie, surprisingly, was the biggest of them all) and brought something to the table neither of them properly had. Skill, or just general knowledge of the game. He always knew what he was doing, whereas Stan didn't want to waste his time learning video game shit, and Richie didn't even look at fucking tutorials (balls to the wall kinda shit). He was number 3. Gaining a Mike, you move on to number 5: Bev. Richie actually found her. He guessed because Bev was local, she was in his recommended on Twitch. He'd taken a shot and joined her stream, shooting off some oneliners, being himself, you know. She'd bounced off him with poise and grace, Richie was fucking fascinated.
All that to say, they all met each other and then boom, turns out Bev and Billy had some fucking history. High-school sweethearts, who had amicably split, thank god. (The Losers Club still had fucking training wheels, that drama could've ruined everything.) As far as Richie knew they never tried to reconnect in that way. (He couldn't be completely certain, he guessed.) But he knew they weren't now, at the very least.
But Ben and Bev?
The floor is yours, it is possible, my friend.
Ben was physically in Bev's chat, hence the founding of his theory. It didn't take a genius to see that one Ben Hanscom was deadly into one Beverly Marsh. (There was actually this whole fucking movement on the internet about it. Which Richie distinctly was not sure how to feel about.) And Ben, sweet Benny boy, was always writing poems about a muse (more often than not with fiery hair). Bev, noteably, watched his streams. It was very reciprocated though, and Richie had been watching it unfold for almost a year now.
He was pretty fucking invested-
"Hi, this is Bev! Leave me a message and I'll get back to you."
Richie groaned, throwing himself back against the pillows. Time for plan B.
With a quick flick through his contacts, he clicked the one he needed and waited -impatiently, if anyone was asking.
"Hello?"
"Billy!" Richie burst out with a big grin, "-How's the high life treatin' ya?"
Bill was plan B because he lived in LA, closer than any other loser (other than Bev) and he needed location help.
"It's... okay, too hot to leave th-the house," Bill laughed, "-You n-never fucking call me, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Billiam," Richie explained, "-I just need some help. It's kinda like a question, honestly-"
"S-Shoot," Bill echoed out -certain. He was headstrong as shit, it was really fucking scary on the right day. (Richie was impulsive/brave, and Bill was impulsively brave. If that made any sense.)
"Best date ideas you can think of, go," Richie announced like he was covering a race or something.
"In g-general, or what?"
"I was gonna ask specifically for San Francisco, but Bev isn't answering her fucking phone," Richie whined, letting out a deep breath, "-So I figured you might know something, somewhere nearby."
"Rich," Bill leveled, "-L-LA is six fucking ho-hours away from San Francisco. Do you w-wanna drive six hours for a d-date?"
Richie honestly debated driving to New York every day (Eddie hated planes), so six hours was entirely doable. For him anyway.
"Uh, maybe," he offered, awkwardly, "-if the idea's good enough."
"Th-This is for Eddie, r-right?" Bill clarified, and Richie could hear the clicking of his keyboard, "-Stanley t-told me he's moving in k-kinda soon."
"Yeah, a little under 3 months now, maybe close to 2 and a half, actually," Richie confirmed, mind wandering on the thought for a second. Eddie... coming to live with him. He was still totally normal about it. Completely fucking normal-
"I can tell it's s-serious," Bill added, before questioning, "-What's w-with the pr-preplanning though?"
"I'm Eddie's first boyfriend," it rumbled out of his chest (he still couldn't fucking believe that shit, what the fuck), "-and he's never been on an actual... date. So, ya know, I just wanna..."
"Give it t-to him," Bill finished, thoughtfully, "-Well, I'm g-gonna help you th-through this. We're gonna f-figure this shit out."
Richie fucking believed him.
"O-Okay, so I don't know s-shit about San Francisco, an-and neither do y-you," Bill started, "-but, the f-fucking internet d-does."
And the internet did, in fact, know.
His conversation with Bill had to be pretty quick, he had an interview or meeting or something. He'd taken to writing books recently, and somebody wanted to give him a shot. Hear him out. But they did narrow down some options, which was better than where he started. And Bev still hadn't called him back, so it was kinda all he had.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
eds
edsssss
edsssssss
eddie baby
spaghetti π
I'm ur boyfriend stop ignoring me
e.kaspbrak
What the fuck do you want, asshole?
You know I'm with Ben right now.
Right, Ben also lived in New York. Which was also kinda lucky, and definitely added to his proclaimed "phenomenon". So, he noted it somewhere in the back of his head.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
wow ur boyfriend can't want attention ???
I see how it is π€
also I know for a fact he's on a call with Bev so
e.kaspbrak
How do you know that?
Bingo, another piece of evidence for his theory.
He paused a second, reflecting. He should seriously go outside more often-
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
she wasn't answering her phone
and I have a theory they are madly in love w each other
e.kaspbrak
Huh.
You might actually have a fucking point, moron.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
awe, my boyfriend called me stupid π₯Ί
He could practically see the eye roll, all the way in New York.
e.kaspbrak
Shut the fuck up.
You know I like you.
Now, what do you want?
Richie smiled, kicking his feet a little, and wished he could fly. He felt a little like that Rudolph scene where the girl deer thought he was cute (that made him fly, right?). So maybe flying would do the trick to represent the flutter in his heart.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
how do u feel about trampoline parks ?
or picnics in a botanical garden
or mini golf
e.kaspbrak
Richie, what the fuck are you talking about?
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
date ideas
I'm planning out dates which u should be proud of me for
or impressed I'll take either
e.kaspbrak
Seriously?
Richie paused for a second, not sure how to take that. But, it was Eddie so he didn't think it would be bad. Not really.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
uh yeah
I'm ur first boyfriend
and u have never been on a date
so I figured I'd be a good fucking bf and plan that shit out
bc u deserve them
e.kaspbrak
I think that is the nicest shit anyone has ever done for me.
Brownie points, his mind chimed. But, still it was a little upsetting. Eddie was like... worth the fucking world to him. Why did he have such a shitty life?
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
well I'm gonna be ur best boyfriend ever sooooo
e.kaspbrak
Maybe my only boyfriend ever.
Richie froze, not in the bad kinda way, and his heart skipped a beat. Maybe the drive to New York really wouldn't be that bad? I mean, it's a long time and Richie would get so fucking bored that he'd be insufferable. But, Eddie would be at the end of it. That would make all the shit worth it-
e.kaspbrak
Which could also be because you fuck it up so bad that I swear off dating forever.
Or you were so shit as a boyfriend that I become straight.
Richie laughed, before carefully typing.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
but the other way too ?
e.kaspbrak
Yeah, the other way too.
Richie grinned, feeling so woozy that he might fall out of his chair. He wanted to twirl his hair, and write in a diary. Or maybe skip (literally skipping) through the streets of San Francisco, smiling too big.
e.kaspbrak
I think the trampoline park would be more for you.
Which I wouldn't mind because I like seeing you happy.
Dipshit.
Richie laughed again.
e.kaspbrak
The garden thing actually sounds really nice.
If you can stay still for that long.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
I just need something to focus on
and I can def focus on u eds π
e.kaspbrak
You're such an idiot.
And I like the idea of mini-golf.
But I am so fucking competitive that you should physically take that into consideration.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
I'll let u win
don't worry your pretty lil head about it spaghetti
e.kaspbrak
You better fucking not.
And I'll win fair and square anyway.
Richie almost typed out a response, ready to keep the bickering going-
e.kaspbrak
I've always wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge.
If we could do that.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
oh fucking course we can do that eds
I'd buy it for u if it was in my budget
rename it the eds bridge
or maybe eddie baby's bridge
e.kaspbrak
I like that one.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
what
my hypothetical bridge name ?
e.kaspbrak
Just the name.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
what eddie baby ?
e.kaspbrak
Yes, dipshit.
Do you have any kind of reading comprehension?
Richie laughed a little, a smile still spread across his lips. Eddie baby. Yeah, okay, he could work with that.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
idk eddie baby
my teacher always said I was troubled π€·ββοΈ
e.kaspbrak
You're not going to let go of that, are you?
Richie grinned.
trashmouth.tozier βοΈ
oh no fucking chance eds
8 notes
Β·
View notes