#HE WOULD NTO BE RIPPED. HE WOULD NOT BE TONED

[frogatz]

does anybody even CAREEE avbout putting some damn meat on that man

[octoberobserver]

I saw where someone else had made a post about that vine video where the one guys wakes the other up but then a 2nd guy was in the bed as well and no one knew. yea that for adult reddie

Hi nonnie, so sorry for the late reply on this! Thanks for this fun prompt, I had a blast. It ended up being 60% Hanbrough tbh, but I had fun with it ^_^

Read on ao3 Wake Up Call for Mr Tozier

Richie and Eddie weren’t subtle.

They were handsy.

And flirty.

And drunk.

But for someone able to concoct such elaborate stories (albeit with horrible endings) and create beautiful sentences (albeit among gore and horror), Bill Denbrough wasn’t always what the Losers would call…intuitive. At least not when it came to badly-kept secrets.

Common sense isn’t all that common, Eddie would shrug.

Dumb as a sack of hammers, Bev would reply.

King of the Himbos, Richie would conclude.

Which was how, on the eve of their second annual reunion, when all the Losers, (plus Patty, Don and Adrian - all officially new members) eventually retired to bed, where they were staying with Bill and Mike in his giant, seven-bedroom L.A. home, he failed to notice Richie and Eddie’s sleeping arrangements.

He watched, bleary-eyed, as the two ‘helped’ each other up the stairs, each as drunk as the other, doing more stumbling than anything, like two hammered Bambis. Suppressing his chuckle, Bill wound an arm around Mike’s waist as leaned in close, following his eye line.

“Did we put enough pillows in the guest room for Eddie?”

A slow smile spread across Mike’s face as he watched dumb and dumber stumble on the stairs, giggling like the two perpetual middle-schoolers they were.

“Something tells me he won’t need ‘em, Bill,” he murmured before planting a kiss to the side of his boyfriend’s head.

Bill frowned, turning to Mike, opening his mouth to ask why not.

“Come to bed.”

Bill’s mouth snapped shut, transforming into a grin.

~*~

Like with endings, (at least the literary kind), mornings were not Bill’s forte. But it had to be said, waking up next to Mike Hanlon, definitely helped.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” a deep, low voice mumbled into his ear, a huff of breath causing him to shiver.

With a groan, he turned over and snuggled into the furnace-like warmth of the man beside him, burying his face in his shoulder, a pleased hum escaping his lips as he felt a strong arm wind around him.

“Do we have to make breakfast for everyone?”

His question was muffled and more than a little sulky, but Mike laughed all the same.“

We wanna be good hosts, don’t we?”

Bill groaned again, his head making its feelings known on that last shot of tequila he downed because Richie had dared him. (Maybe he was still a bit of a middle-schooler too.)

“I guess so.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Mike’s tone was warm, teasing, and alluring enough that Bill just had to look up and kiss him, right on the lips, morning breath be damned.

“Don’t talk about spirits,” he mumbled against his mouth, “my head hasn’t forgiven me for last night.”

Mike raked his palms up Bill’s sides, squeezing his hips. “No sympathy,” he grinned, eyes twinkling, “all self-inflicted.”

With that he gave a hearty smack to his ass, beginning to push him out of the bed. “Go on, you go wake up the kids. I’ll get breakfast started.”

Bill moaned, and not for good reasons.

“I hate having to wake Richie. He’s like a bear in the morning.”

Mike swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching, his sleep-shirt riding up and revealing a sliver of the very tantalising skin above his belly button, making Bill freeze mid-step.

“I feel like it’s my duty to remind you on Richie’s behalf that he is not a bear, he’s a...sea lion?” Mike paused, scratching his stomach, “No, that’s not right. An otter? Beaver? I don’t know man, something that swims, I think. Adrian was trying to teach me all the different kinds of gay—mmph!”

Bill cut him off with a kiss, leaning up and dragging him down into it.

“I love you, you giant, sexy nerd,” he grinned as the kiss broke, running his thumb under the hem of Mike’s sleep-shirt.

“I love you too,” Mike winked, smacking Bill’s ass again, “but don’t think it gets you out of waking the Losers. Start with someone easy, like Eddie.”

There was something in Mike’s voice, in his smirk, that had Bill’s suspicions flaring, but he sighed, pecking his jaw before resigning himself to his fate. Out of all of them, Eddie was one of the earliest risers, usually. It was a tie between him, Ben and Stan, most of the time. Ben, a frequent morning jogger, and Stan, an avid bird-watcher. So really, Bill knew Mike was right, starting with him.

Shrugging nto his slippers and robe, he dragged a hand through his bed-head and shuffled down the corridor, making a bee-line for Eddie’s room.

“Eds?” he called out quietly as he knocked. “Mike and I are making breakfast if you’re interested?”

Silence rang out. With a frown, he turned the handle and gave a quick glance around the door, eyes falling on the empty bed, so neatly made up, it looked like it hadn’t been slept in. Huh. Eddie must already be up. With a shrug, Bill closed the door with a snap and decided that it was best to just rip the bandaid off. Richie was going to be the one that gave the most pushback, so he may as well start with him. If he was his usual grumpy self, Bill could always move onto everyone else then loop back around.

With Richie though, he’d have to try a different approach than with Eddie. Something loud and annoying to get back at him for his part in Bill’s hangover. Quickly, he got fished out his phone from his robe pocket, turning to the guest room where Richie was staying, directly opposite Eddie’s. 

Counting down from three in his head, he hit record and flung the door wide open, spotting Richie asleep in one of the twin beds. Stifling his laugh, Bill switched on the light and yelled, “Wake up, Sleepyhead!”

He watched gleefully as Richie, with a serious case of bed-head, jumped, grumbling something like, “Whoa, what’s goin—”

“The fuck, man?”

Bill blinked as Eddie suddenly popped up from behind Richie, his arm very noticeably thrown over his hip, both men very, very shirtless. The three friends stared at each other. A beat of silence passed.

Two.

Three.

Shock shot through Bill, his brain scrambling to make sense of this picture, a borderline hysterical laugh escaping his throat. He found his brain vividly flashing back to various moments, touches, shared smiles between Richie and Eddie and…oh. Then, with exactly zero input from his brain, his feet turned him around and led him right back out the bedroom door, a louder laugh bursting from him and carrying down the corridor, no doubt enough to wake the rest of the Losers.

Good. That gave him time to spill the beans to Mike.

Richie and Eddie blinked at the closed door that their friend had just bolted through.

“Well, that’s one way to tell him,” Eddie sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow, his arm tightening around Richie’s waist.

“Yeah, you popping up all Whack-A-Mole-style and scaring the crap outta him was one way to go, Eds,” Richie chuckled, turning around to face him and kissing him on the forehead.

“The man fought a murderous space clown. Twice,” Eddie grumbled into his neck, “I think he can survive seeing us in bed together.”

Richie snorted, settling a hand on his lower back, pulling their bodies closer together, he already in danger of falling out of the far too small bed.

“You know there’s a double in your room, right?” he murmured into Eddie’s hair. “Remind me again why we ended up squeezed into this tiny twin bed?”

Eddie poked him in the chest, prompting him to lean back to look him in the eye.

“Rich, we were so drunk, we’re lucky we didn’t end up trying to make these into bunk beds and sleeping in them, or something worse.”

Richie smirked. “That tub was looking appealing last night, not gonna lie.”

“And besides,” Eddie poked his chest again, softer this time, “I wanted to push the beds together to make a double. Like we did in middle school. But, you know, the tequila—”

“Ahh, the tequila,” Richie sighed wistfully, before leaning down and pressing their foreheads together.“Guess the cat’s outta the bag now, huh?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes before letting them close.

“All the others already know. Bill was just being slow on the uptake as usual.”

Richie bumped their noses.

“Told you, Eds. He’s a himbo.”

“King Himbo, I think you said.”

They shared a laugh before closing the short distance, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Richie hummed into it happily, (still tickled that Eddie apparently wasn’t as opposed to morning breath as he thought), brushing his tongue along Eddie’s bottom lip, the kiss deepening. Just as things were getting good, far too good for two people who were just called for breakfast, Eddie stilled, pulling away, his cheeks flushed, lips plump, and his eyes wide.

“Wait, was he recording us?”