#I’m gonna keep reading and hope this is not too unbearably obnoxious but god damn

[icterid-rubus]

Why do I take romance novel suggestions from tumblr.

[eye-raq]

Who named you?!!!

Erik Stevens x Beulah May Jenkins 😊

Warnings: HUMOR, and I guess fluff.

Summary: (imagine Erik finding out his girl got an old ass name) Erik and his girl get ready to go out to a house warming of her families, but before they go Erik stumbles upon some “new” information.

I hope y’all like this little one shot that me and my friends in the group chat cooked up 😂😂😂 we some goofy bitches. Not really tagging alot of people because this is meant for a little fun to read I guess lol. I hope its good.

“What the fuck? LAH LAH!!”

Lah Lah was in the middle of laying her baby hairs, putting her faux locs up in a bun, wearing high waisted ligh wash jeans, a crop top in red and a pair of black heels.

“Erik clearly I’m fucking busy babe!”

“Nah this some serious shit here! Don’t make me have to tell yo ass twice.”

She groans loudly, stomping out of the bathroom and down the hall to their master bed room. When she enters, she stumbles backward, her ankle sort of twisting awkwardly now shooting pain up her calve from her heels.

The color drained from her face, she was haunted.

“Who the hell is Beulah May Jenkins?!” Erik was shirtless, only in his Jean joggers and Nike vapor max plus.

She had a pained look on her face as she sped over, snatching up the ID, holding it behind her back.

“None of your got damn business! OOOO!! Damn why you going through my shit?!” She was throwing a minnie tempo tantrum. Erik noticed how jumpy she was, eyes looking anywhere but at him. He had a peering look in his eyes, tongue running over his upper teeth.

“Number one, your shit was near my shit. I found this fucking thing under my side of the bed. Number two-“

“Number TWO sit your big ass DOWN, and shut the fuck UP.” She pressed with irritation, counting off on her fingers dramatically trying to divert his attention away from where he was headed.

“So kindly get dressed so we can be outta here.” She wanted it to be over but surely she knew that Erik wouldn’t let this go. He clapped his hands together so loud it echoed off the walls.

“AYEEE! Let’s turn this shit back around Lah Lah Loopsy!!” He sounded out, holding up two fingers.

“Number two, why the fuck you got Big Mama name on here instead of Lah Lah?!” He gave her a quizzical look.

Lah Lah’s eyes almost left her sockets.

“What the fuck you in Lah Lah land or some shit?!” He glowered, scuffing afterwards.

“It’s-it’s not-I.” She could rip her hair out. She could not believe this was happening right now.

Before she could even think, Erik snatched up the ID again.

“ERIK STOP!!” She could cry hard.

She felt her heart race, her leg jiggled with anxiety. This was a huge secret for her.

Erik scanned the ID with his large muscular back facing her, silence between them. The only sound that could be heard was him tapping the card with his fingers. Lah Lah just stood there hugging herself, eyes burning a hole into his back. After what felt like a minute, she watches as Erik shakes his head, taking in a long obnoxious deep breath, before turning back around, scratching his brow.

“Lah Lah...From What I have gathered, it appears this is, YOUR drivers license and not some practical joke from Spencer’s gift shop.” He spoke with fake professionalism. He gazed, one eyebrow flicked upwards into his dreads.

Lah Lah ass couldn’t even speak.

“The name on this drivers license reads, Beulah May-“ he clears his throat, a fist to his mouth.

“Sorry, I had a tickle in my throat, but the name here reads Beulah May Jenkins.” He pointed to each name, from first to last, confusion written on his face, his own words scrambled.

“So in my head I’m like nah uh uh fuck that shit this can’t be her with this geriatric ass name, but then I look below it and see 10/15/1989.” He laughs as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“This is DEFINITELY a real ID and everything too.”

She looked as if she were going to faint. He fixed her with a hard gaze.

“It appears that my girl going to late night bingo with Dolores and Betty.” He stared briefly as if curious and evasive.

Lah Lah let out a long agonizing breath, shaking her head before placing her hands on her hips.

“So basically you wanna play?! Either way you know it’s mines nigga!!!” She could crap her pants right now from the embarrassment.

Erik folds his arms over his bare chest.

“Who did this shit to you? Who named you?!” He tried to convey a sincere tone but Lah Lah... Beulah knew that Erik was working his way up to clowning her more.

“Who was it?! Miss Karen or Mr Rod?” Erik licked at his bottom lip with a smirk slowly rising.

“Ole soul food ass name. You gonna tell me who it was?! Or stay mute?! I’m already flabbergasted.” He was struggling not to unravel with laughter.

“It was my DAD ERIK.” She was hopeless at this point. Trust Beulah always wondered why the fuck her father would do that shit!

“NAH NOT TRIPPLE OG ROD.” Erik shook his head frantically, LITERALLY DISTRAUGHT.

“Yes bitch ass nigga it was my damn daddy! Idk maybe he was drunk or some shit why don’t you ask him yourself.”

“Mannnnnnn” He slid his hand down his face.

“What was your mama doing though? She ain’t have a say?” His voice sort of broke from the laughter that wanted to burst.

“She said my Dad wanted to remember his great grandson through me so..”

“Great Grandson?” Erik scrunches his face, shaking his head slightly while his dreads shifted a little on his forehead.

“You know what the fuck I meant. Grandmom fool.”

“Damn...you remember the Civil Rights Movement?” He sat down then, hand under his chin, his leg crossed animatedly.

She was shamefaced. Beulah wanted to press rewind to stop this shit from happening.

“How about I sing this for you maybe your old ass will remember 🎶 we shall over come/ we shall overcome 🎶 “ you remember that? He had this vacant expression as if to play stupid.

“Erik I sware to fucking God I’m gonna fuck you up.”

“You sure you can do that? That osteoporosis ain’t killing you baby?” He spoke that with a fake elderly voice.

She could literally feel the steam blow from her ears. She just wanted to drink, check out her older cousins new place, stuff her face, and dance. Now things were taking a turn for the worse.

“You know what else makes this shit funny?!” That wide dimpled smile was unstoppable.

“Humor me.”

“You really call yourself Lah Lah in short for Beulah.”

This man was in shambles. He couldn’t hardly breath, the entire situation hard to get over.

“All them times your fingers locked up from stroking this dick, damn baby! You got arthritis, osteoporosis, next thing you know you’ll have kyphosis from me blowing your back out.”

“What the FUCK is Kyphrosis?”

“A hump back.” Erik goofy ass wheezed.

“I ain’t the one using a fake name ERIK STEVENS.” Beulah wasn’t really good with come backs.

“Oh nah uh uh don’t put me in that category I’m not the one with a name that belong to a women who was 30 during the prohibition.”

Lah Lah began to retort but her cellphone rang.

“Hello?! Oh...sorry mama. Yeah me and Erik are on our way now.” Lah Lah snapped her fingers at Erik to get dressed, watching him lift from the bed with his eyes dancing with humor, picking up his plain white t shirt and north face windbreaker in red and black. Lah Lah hung up the phone quick, turning to Erik with a scolding look.

“Now I hope you got all your laughs in nigga. Please don’t keep this shit up at the party E.”

Erik shrugged.

“Not making any promises, depends on how my mind feels.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing her things before heading out with Erik.

————————————————————————

“Hey! Lah and Erik are here!”

Erik greets her family, his mind taking in the fact that even her own family called her Lah. Erik felt reassured and happy that everyone were thinking the same thing. While here at the party, it became so unbearable to keep quiet once he saw her father talking it up in the kitchen with a glass of gin.

“Erik! What’s happening young blood?” He shook Erik’s hand, while he said hi to the others.

“Nothing much Mr. Rod, just hanging in there.”

Lah Lah enters, giving her love to everyone before grabbing up a punch bowl, leading her cousin towards the dining room.

“She still got you calling her Lah Lah Erik?” The way her drunk uncle asked that could have had him spitting out his drink in laughter.

“I’m still trying to understand why your old tired ass named your daughter Beulah.” One of her Father’s friends shook his head.

“For as long as I know, I would NEVER ever ever ever get with a girl named Beulah, sound like a name you would give a senior citizen.”

Erik couldn’t take it. He snorted a laughter into his cup, juice bubbles forming.

“Man I remember when I held her in my arms, she was so beautiful, still is. I asked this bastard what her name was.” He friend looked up at Erik, giving him complete eye contact.

“Well, you could probably guess what it was right?”

This caused some of the other men to chime in with chuckles.

“Beulah May Jenkins.” Erik actually took his time to sound that out in a sweet old lady voice, causing an uproar from the men, including her Dad.

“Back then man I was down about my great grandmom so I gave her that name.”

“When was your Great Grandmom born?” Erik asked.

“1901.”

“And when was Lah Lah born?”

“1989.”

“So why in the HELL...you know what.” Her Dads friend waved him away.

———————————————————————-

“Here, I got you a drink.”

Lah Lah reaches out to grab the cup only to find prune juice inside.

“Erik...What the FUCK is this?!”

“Prune Juice, itll help with your chronic constipation.”

Lah Lah just about had it. She kept from Erik because of this and now he wouldn’t stop. She needed to change her name quick and fast.

“Nigga I sware on my life-“

“Don’t say shit like that Beulah baby! You only 80.”

She tossed the cup in the trash angrily.

The one thing he did that had her ready to leave caused some people to laugh.

Erik made her a plate, bringing it outside to one of the picnic tables. She reached out for it but instead Erik sat it down with his, taking a knife and fork to cut it up.

“Since you so damn cripple I gotta chop this meat up for you.” He hummed to himself, cutting her grilled chicken and steak so fine it looked like already chewed food.

“Keep it up, and I’m chopping the meat between your legs with a butcher knife.”

This man even tried to spoon feed her. She didn’t even bother eating, instead grabbing her things, saying her last goodbyes, and leaving.

Home Lah Lah didn’t speak to Erik and she practically ignored him like he wasn’t there. Eventually sleep overtook him and he was a snoring mess. She had enough of his snoring in her ear, taking her foot and kicking him off the bed rough. He landed in a loud thump that caused her to chuckle to herself.

After about a day of no torture from Erik, Lah Lah-Beulah

Started believing Erik was done with his antics. She had plans to get her name permanently changed to Lah Lah or some other shit. Erik could be heard coming home, Lah Lah in the kitchen cooking chili.

“Hey Lah! I got a gift for you c’mere.”

She put the chili on simmer, finally walking into the living room to greet her man.

“Hey how was work?”

“It was good as always.” Erik pulls out a gift bag for her, a handsome smile on his face.

“Here you go baby.”

Lah Lah was beyond happy, she always loved gifts from him. She made herself comfortable on the couch, removing the gift wrap before staring down at a folded piece of fabric with an ugly floral design.

“Erik…”

She pulled out the fabric, letting it fall open to reveal a dress that looked like it belonged in the 1940s to some old as cat lady. It was dingy as well, and it smelled like cat piss.

“I figured you would love it. It suits you fine Beulah.”

She truly believed that this man was through.

“STILL ON THAT SAME SHIT HUH?!”

Erik pointed to the bag.

“One more gift left, and you better open it Miss Jenkins.”

Lah Lah angrily pulls a small box out the bag that had a gold ribbon. A sudden hope for something perfect came to her but that all came crashing down like a thunderstorm. She was staring down at a life alert necklace.

Lah Lah had this blank expression on her face, eyes never leaving that box. Erik could not control his laughter once she pulled the top off, he was on the floor now clutching his stomach.

“You May need to wear that when we fucking cuz I don’t need your ass to have a heart attack.”

Lah Lah through the box at him, groaning.

“ITS OVER E! The jokes over it’s dead now.”

“Not when you kick me off the bed it isn’t. You try that shit again and I’m calling you Beulah from here on out and I don’t give a fuck who hear!”

She side eyed him before lifting from the couch. She was about done with him dragging this shit out.

“If my name is such a damn problem then bounce nigga!” Erik rolled his eyes, lifting from the floor to follow her.

“You can’t take a joke?! I’m only messing with yo uptight ass.”

“You hate my name admit it!” She was being a cry baby now, folding her arms and pouting.

Erik walks up to her, rubbing her arms soothingly.

“Baby no, Beulah is a beautiful name.” She met his eyes, disbelief in them.

“Okay okay its a little cringe.”

She glared.

“A smidge more cringe..” she shoved him.

“BUT I love you. And I will always love you. It was a good laugh and I’m sorry if I offended you aight?”

He pinked her cheek, causing her too look away.

“Aye, cut that shit out Lah.” Erik pulls out another box, Lah Lah staring at it with caution.

“What’s this? A pace maker?!” She didn’t trust it.

“I promise I’m done.”

Lah Lah grabbed the box, taking off the lid to find pink diamond earrings. She shakes her head, a small smile creeping up before giggling to herself.

“Wow...they are actually beautiful asshole.”

She looked up at him and his goofy grin, the laughter uncontrollable now.

“Now cut that shit out and give daddy a kiss.”

She leans up on her tip toes, kissing him softly.

“You still don’t want the life alert though? You may need it in a minute miss Beulah.”

She couldn’t even argue with him, motioning for him to get the box with the life alert so she could wear it.

Erik was amused by this, watching her put it around her neck.

“I want my back blown out, and DONT give me a hump back.”

They both laughed in unison.

@panthergoddessbast @whoramilaje @allhailnjadaka @hearteyes-for-killmonger @vikkidc @ange-sensuel @thehomierobbstark @blackpantherismyish @eriknutinthispoosy @trevantesbrat 

[eversall]

prompt: jimon + childhood friends AU !! always like those, and i always wonder how that would like... impact jace and simon if they had been childhood friends from the start

best friends for a long time is my ultimate weakness

“Hey.” Jace says, inviting himself into Simon’s room and sprawling onto his desk chair. “‘Sup?”

Simon’s lying on his bed, earphones half in, and he glares at Jace as hard as he can - which isn’t much, given the fact that his mind is currently drowning in sorrow, and he just wants to curl up and die.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear what happened. You’re here to gloat, aren’t you?” Simon snaps, and Jace shrugs. 

“I told you in fifth grade that that dude was bad news, it’s been seven years since then.” Jace reminds him. He’s looking at Simon’s posters now, not even looking at him as he says, softly, “You didn’t even think about listening to me.” 

“Sorry, yeah,” Simon bites out, “except he was the only one who invited me to prom and unlike you, I don’t have dates just lined up? So I can’t afford to be picky - “

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Jace says, exasperated, and Simon sits up in bed, furious, when Jace continues, “You would never let any one of us say that about ourselves, but you can say that about yourself? Anyone would be lucky to have you, Simon, you can’t settle.” 

Simon’s stunned into a furious silence, glaring petulantly at Jace, because Jace is right, and he hates that, hates that Jace knows him almost as well as Clary. And this boy, with his infuriatingly gorgeous body is nice to Simon in his own way, surprisingly sweet, and fuck it’s just not fair and it doesn’t help Simon get over the feelings he’s had for Jace for years. 

“Whatever.” Simon sighs, and flops back into bed. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Jace asks, and Simon rolls away from him so he doesn’t have to look at Jace sitting in his room like he belongs there. 

“You always are.” Simon says dully. 

There’s silence, and then the sound of Jace moving, the bed dipping as he sits near Simon. A tentative hand comes up to stroke his back, Jace’s long fingers burning a path through the thin material of Simon’s shirt. 

“You’ll be okay.” Jace says quietly. “You will.” 

“Like I was okay in middle school when Georgie Chen dumped her juice all over me for not being a cool enough date to the movies?” Simon asks wryly, and he hears Jace laugh, the small, throaty one that makes little dimples appear in Jace’s cheeks. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, I also dumped my juice over Georgie Chen for that, so I think that went fine.” Jace remarks, and Simon smiles at that, shaking his head as he sits up, sitting cross-legged on the bed and facing Jace. 

“Yeah, but that cemented your popularity. ‘Ooooh, I’m Jace Herondale, I’m too cool for the cool kids, I wore tiny leather jackets when I was in elementary school and my hair swishes in the wind like I’m in a commercial - “ Simon sings, adopting a falsetto and ducking as Jace throws a pillow at him, laughing. 

“I’m Simon Lewis,” Jace says, deepening his voice and turning his nose up, “I corrected the math teacher in ninth grade and now I’m the math nerd and I know ever single Nicolas Cage movie like nobody’s business but I like to wear graphic tees and pretend I’m a punk rocker - “

“I’m a superstar and you know it.” Simon says, making finger guns. 

“Damn, and we’re all just along for the ride.” Jace says, propping his chin up in his hands and looking at Simon fondly. Simon grins, because Jace is his best friend, and maybe prom didn’t work out, but - he still has this, still gets this side of Jace that no one else gets to see. And that’s enough for him. 

.

Three weeks later, his phone shrilly and insistently rings, rousing him from his Brooklyn 99 marathon on prom night. He blinks down at the caller ID, frowning as he picks up. 

“Hey,” he greets Clary, “shouldn’t you be getting read to go to prom, Fray? Izzy’s picking you up soon, isn’t she?” 

“Yes.” Clary says, and she sounds like she’s out of breath and running. “But change of plans, I’m getting ready at your house.” 

“Uh - “ Simon says, but then his front door rings and he slowly pauses the episode on his laptop as his sister goes to get it. 

“Clary?” Rebecca’s surprised voice echoes. Simon jumps up and runs to the front door, where he sees Clary lugging a huge duffel bag and two large dry-cleaning bags, whispering furiously to Rebecca. “Oh my god - yes, I approve - Mom’s not here - well, I’ll just do all the - yes, I love this plan!”

“What plan?” Simon asks immediately, narrowing his eyes at his sister and his best friend. “Don’t like the collusion that’s going on here, no, nope, betrayed by my very best friend in my house, under my roof - “

“No time for yapping, Simon.” Rebecca says impatiently, one hand on her hip as she makes a shooing motion. 

“She’s right.” Clary hums as she dumps the dry cleaning in his hands and tugs on his hands. “Come on, we’re already behind schedule.”

“Behind - what?” Simon asks, bewildered, as he follows her to his room. She throws the duffel on his bed and takes one of the bags, the plastic riding up to reveal the shimmery green dress he helped her pick out. “Clary, what?” He repeats helplessly. 

“You’re going to prom.” Clary says, beaming at him. “There’s someone that’s wanted for a very long time to go with you, and in a burst of bravery - and pain, because someone slapped some sense into them - they’ve decided to use the tickets they bought for the two of you and take you to prom!” 

“Who - what - you slapped someone into going to prom with me?” Simon blinks, feeling like he’s rapidly losing control of the situation. 

“Not me.” Clary says airily. “Though I wish I had. I promise its a good date, you’re definitely going to like it. Now go change into your suit, please.” 

“Suit - “ Simon looks at the bag in his hands and slides the plastic up, revealing midnight-blue fabric. “Holy shit this is way out of my price range, where’d you get this?” 

“Magnus, of course. Raphael picked it out from Magnus’ selection.” Clary answers. She pauses, and then very seriously takes Simon’s hand. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, “trust me, okay? This person really likes you, and all of us think that they’ll be good for you. You’ll like them. Let me help you get ready?” 

“All of you guys?” Simon swallows. “Even Jace approves?” 

Jace, who’s notoriously hard to please; Jace, who’s obnoxiously insulted everyone who’s looked twice at Simon; Jace, who’s quietly helped Simon through every disappointment and made Simon fall harder and harder for him - 

“Even Jace.” Clary smiles. “Ready?” 

Simon’s silent for a second, looking at the suit and thinking about how even if it’s not with Jace, he deserves to be happy. Maybe he should give this mysterious suitor a chance. 

“Alright.” He answers finally, and can’t help but smile in response to Clary beaming at him. “Alright, alright, you win, Fray!” 

“Damn right I do!” She says, pleased with herself. “Now go.” 

Clary manages to get him and herself ready in record time, and they’re both dressed, hair styled, in less than forty minutes. Simon stares at the person in the mirror, and can’t quite believe it’s him. The suit fits like a dream, makes his legs look longer and his torso broader. Logically, he knows he’s not bad-looking, but the suit makes it much easier to feel that way too. He looks at his carefully coiffed hair, and he nods, sliding his glasses off. 

“What are you doing?” Clary asks, slipping into her heels and fixing one of her earrings on. She looks gorgeous, impeccable in her makeup and curls, and Simon’s not sure what black magic she worked to get herself ready at the same time. “Keep your glasses on.”

“I look better with contacts?” Simon asks more than he says. He’s pretty sure that was the consensus among his friends. Clary shakes her head, smiling. 

“This person specifically told me to make sure you didn’t take them off, because - and I quote - they’re a part of you.” She says, and Simon can’t breathe for a long second, because that’s just about the most damn beautiful thing he’s ever heard, and it makes him feel like he could fly. 

“Okay,” he croaks out, sliding his glasses back on, “okay, this person’s a romantic.” 

“Hey,” Rebecca sticks her head into his room, “they’re all here, Simon’s date is ready.” 

“Finally.” Clary grabs her purse and moves to the door. “I’m gonna go out first, and you can follow right after, yeah?”

“Okay.” Simon says, his mouth suddenly dry and his hands clammy. Clary squeezes his shoulder before she takes off, and he’s left with just Rebecca. 

“Becks.” He says weakly, gesturing to himself. “I - “

“You look good, Si.” She says softly, smiling sadly at him. “You look just like Dad, you know. Except for the nose.” She taps his nose. “That’s Mom all the way.”

“Aw, Becks.” He says, flushing. 

“Don’t get sappy on me now.” She teases, and then she gestures to the hallway. “Well? Go find your date.” 

Simon nods, and bites his lips as he moves to the front door. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath with his hand on the door handle. 

This is going to be fine. This is going to be fine. 

He opens the door and looks out into the night; the path to the front door is lit brightly by the front porch lamp, white light glowing softly around a figure with soft blonde hair and unbearably adoring blue-brown eyes. 

“Hey,” Jace says, holding out a rose to Simon, a blinding smile on his face as he looks at Simon, “wanna go to prom with me?” 

“Jace?” Simon croaks out, taking the rose numbly, his mind not quite comprehending. 

“I got it on very good authority that all the time I was pining, it wasn’t actually as hopeless as I thought? So, uh,” he gestures to Simon, “I wanted to give you the prom you deserve. And I want to - try to be the boyfriend you deserve. If you’d let me.” 

Jace is wearing a black suit with a tie to match Simon’s, his eyes hopeful and sincere. He looks good, like a dream out of some fairy tale, and more importantly - 

He’s the boy that hit Simon in the face with a basketball in fourth grade and then led him around school for the rest of the day, holding his hand, because Simon couldn’t see out of his swollen eye; he’s the boy that taught Simon how to play the guitar in middle school and encouraged him to try for his first gig; he’s the boy that stood by Simon through everything. Simon’s never felt this way about anyone. 

Heart in his throat, he steps forward and curls his fingers in Jace’s tie and yanks him forward, kissing him on the porch, slow and sweet as the crickets chirp around them. 

.

Six years later, Jace leads him on a walk through his old neighborhood. 

“Hey.” Simon says, nudging him as Jace shivers. “You’re thinking too hard.” He reaches over and tightens Jace’s scarf around his neck, his fingers lingering against the underside of Jace’s jaw. 

“You don’t think enough.” Jace responds, smirking, as he catches Simon’s wrist and tangles their fingers together, squeezing reassuringly. Simon hums and drives his foot down against a pile of dry leaves, relishing in the crunch that sounds from it. 

“Did you remember to drop the truck off at the mechanic?” Simon asks absently. Jace’s coffee truck is doing well enough to have expanded into two more trucks, run by his employees. 

“Yeah.” Jace abruptly stops, turning to look at Simon. “Hey, remember this wall?” 

Simon looks at it and laughs. It’s a little alley tucked away behind the driveways of the houses, and it’s got graffiti from the generations of kids that have lived there; Rebecca and her friends are by Simon and Clary’s heart with their initials in it, Jace’s barely legible scrawl across it all, with Izzy and Alec beneath that.

“I was so angry when you wrote over our names.” Simon recalls, and he squats down and traces over the heart he and Clary drew over their names when they were eleven. “Here Clary and I were, promising to marry each other when we grew up, and you just came in and scribbled all over it.”

“I was jealous.” Jace laughs a little. “I wanted to have all your attention, and instead she got it.” 

“You always had my attention.” Simon stands up and smiles at Jace, who grins and hooks his hands in Simon’s pockets to bring him closer, walking him backwards at the same time until they’re pressing against the wall, kissing softly. 

They break apart when they hear a car passing by, and make the trek to the Lewis house, bumping shoulders. 

“You think I can go back and scribble the heart out even more?” Jace wonders as they climb the front steps. “I don’t want our kids to one day find that Aunt Clary and Dad had a heart thing going on.” 

“Our kids?” Simon grins, something warm and soft fluttering in his chest. Jace looks at him like he’s the stupid one. 

“Of course.” Jace says. “I’ve had you for thirteen years, Lewis, you think I’m ever going to let you go now? Is it not obvious that you’re stuck with me?” 

“It is.” Simon kisses him again, quick and chaste, before he rings the bell, his heart swelling. “It is.” 

.

That night, before they go back home to the apartment, they add a postscript to the graffiti heart: 

P.S. - JH + SL Forever

[askeddie-kaspbrak-blog]

((Mun: Phew finally finished it. A cute little Richie/Eddie one shot that I’ll probably write a following to. Also a warning here for disturbing sexual themes in this one. Gonna put this in a read more considering that it’s so long. Enjoy!! ))

1985

Everybody had gone back to the hotel to turn in for the night. It was a heavy blow after the death of Stan Uris. The Loser’s Club was no longer lucky seven, but a miserable six now. They were all exhausted and heart broken. They’ve had their fair share of grief and just wanted to sleep on it. Give themselves more time in the morning.

Eddie was in his own room, just blantaly fiddling with his inhaler as he sits on the edge of the bed. Sighing deep, he lets his body weight sink into the mattress. Letting his mind become static. To release himself from reality, even just a bit.

Complete isolation.

Not something he was particularly used to. His mother walking around the house back at home always gave him the reassurance that he needed to know that he was alone. The sounds of the ceilings creaking from above. The pipes clanking from the inside of the walls. The house settling down at night. It was oddly comforting. Now, …. It was complete silence. The hotel walls are thick for reasons. No sounds of human activity were present. It made him feel small and vulnerable. Like a small animal just out on an open field. Potential dangers  lurking around at any given time. The sickening feeling in the pit of stomach made him go into a cold sweat. Poor Stan. It wasn’t fair, he thought. It just wasn’t fair.

….

Hey, there, chum. Why so glum?

Eddie’s body jolted up, dropping his inhaler onto the carpet below. The sickly sweet voice that he had forgotten so long ago until he had received the call from Mike a while back. The same voice that taunted him so many times before. Of all things, why couldn’t it just stay dead? If it was even dead to begin with when they had their last encounter all those years ago. They were just kids, but now …. He’s felt even more of a coward than ever.

God, what were they going to do?

….

….

A couple of faint knocks came from the door, making Eddie jolt once more. He was going to have a heart attack by the age of forty if this keeps up.

“W-who is it?” Eddie spoke, his voice clearly nervous.

“Hey, Ed’s. It’s just me.” The person responded behind the door.

It was Richie.

“May I come in?”

A rush of relief came to Eddie. Happy to hear a voice familiar to him that was warm and welcoming if not obnoxious and what not. He got up from the bed and walked on over to the door diligently. With his eager hand turning the knob and opening the piss-colored door, Eddie’s skin ran cold.

Nobody was there.

Eddie stuck his head out of the doorway. Looking to his left and right to see nothing but darkness. Did the building lose power? Couldn’t have been if there was still light in his room. Maybe the fluorescent lights gave out. Yeah. That has to be it. Even if they seemed fine earlier ago. It’s just a coincidence. That’s all.

Before Eddie could go back inside his room and shut the door, a muffled sound was coming from the darkness on his left. It almost sounded like a raspy whisper that was getting more clearer as the seconds passed by.

Oh god no.

It would’ve been a good time to slam the door shut and hide under the covers, but he was frozen stiff. His body wouldn’t let him go unless he saw of what was lurking about beyond the dark abyss in front of him. The gurgling drowning sounds were coming from the ground. Whatever was coming was as if it was crawling to him. Slowly. It’s stomach chafing through the tough carpet. Hard enough to cause rug burns. A hand started to show into the gradiant light that was being illuminated from Eddie’s room. It looked … rotted. Skeleton clearly showing from the greyish-green flesh that was sliding off and onto the carpet. The smell of summer pollution and years of rotting flesh hit Eddie’s nose hard. He used his backhand to cover his nose from the intense stench.

“Ghh …. Gghh …….. hh ……” A figure crawled closer into the light.

It was The Leper.

Flesh completely decayed with maggots eating it away. Crawling deep into the rest of the remaining moist pus-filled meat as some of them fell off, wriggling in all directions on the carpet. Eyes were no longer intact leaving two empty black holes with more maggots inhabiting inside. The closer he was coming, the more unbearable the smell was becoming. He looked at him. The light completely shining on the corpse's face. It looked desperate. The tiny bits of flesh peeling off of his cheekbones every time the leper would slither closer.

“Let me suck your dick, kid. For a dime, I’ll suck you dry.”

Eddie stepped back, wanting to vomit. He couldn’t scream but just watch. There wasn’t anywhere that he could run.

Close the door. Close the goddamn door, Eddie.

The leper was a few inches now of grabbing Eddie’s ankle. So many diseases that he was possibly carrying. Syphilis. AIDS maybe. Everything that he didn’t want to get. If he were to grab ahold of him, it would be been over. The grotesque image of maggots crawling all over his penis. Crawling inside the foreskin spreading the diseases. His flesh falling off painfully. The faint buzzing of bugs feasting on him until there was nothing but bones. Just like The Leper.

“Suck you dry, kid. Let me taste your cock.”

A snivel escaped Eddie’s mouth with eyes burning of tears. Clenching his jaw tightly, he grabbed hold of the door and screamed.

“No!!!” He cried, slamming the door tightly and leaning against it.

He pressed his entire weight against the door, hearing quick shifting on the other side. The Leper was now scratching the door with his brittle phalanges.

“I want it, Eddie. Just for a dime. I’ll swallow you whole. Swallow every last drop.”

Eddie clasp his hands over his ears. His knees huddling very close to his chest.

“Eddddiiiieeeeeeeeee …..”

“P--Please stop. P-please go away!”

“Eddie …… Eddie ….”

“Eddie ….”

“Eddie ….?”

“Eddie!”

Richie’s voice came from the other side of the door again, but Eddie wasn’t fidgeting to answer it this time. He had only cried harder as to questioning why it keeps taunting him like this. Eddie wanted to go home. He wanted his mother.

“Hey, Ed’s! Are you alright? I heard shouting from my room and it sounded like it was coming from you. Eddie?” Richie said, his voice clearly showed concern as he knocked on the door.

“G-Go away!! J-Just go away!!” Eddie lowered his hands from his ears, trembling like a leaf.

“The hell is the matter with ya? It’s just me. Y’know, Richie? Beep Beep Richie? Eddie, c’mon, just answer the door. Please?” Richie said, almost sounded like he was begging.

“No! H-how would I know it’s really you? How would I know that i--it’s really you and not the clown or …. S-something else?” Eddie shivered, unable to say it.

“We really doin’ this right now? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie sighed, running his fingers through his hair impatiently. “Just take a good look at me and see what YOU think. I promise not to lunge at ya or whatever you think I’m POSSIBLY gonna do. A’right? Sounds like a deal?”

Extensive talking as Richie was always known for. Running his mouth going on about god knows what. But what if it was a trick again? He knew that’s what the monster was known for. To take shape into the figure you’re either familiar with or most afraid of. Bill with his brother and Beverly with her father. It was completely making Eddie question everybody and everything. What was real and what wasn’t? He should know, but in all fairness, they all don’t. They are just as scared as he is. Damn, no use just sitting around and hoping to get an answer by morning.

“Ed’s?”

“Alright, alright. Just …. Give me a second, please.” Eddie bit his lower lip, using the door to slowly lift himself up.

He turned to face the door, reluctant to touch the knob.  

Just do it. If worse comes to worse, just lock yourself in until morning. Then it’s going back home.

Taking deep breaths and mentally preparing himself, he finally opens the door but only just a couple of inches. Enough for him to see and to close it immediately if anything happens.

Richie was there. In the flesh and practically seeming to be either really confused or concerned. One or the other, he wasn’t liking of what he was seeing. It gave Eddie some reassurance that at least The Leper was gone. The hallways were back to being completely brightened up and the carpet was clean of any pieces of flesh or maggots. With that, he opened the door a little wider.

“Jesus, Eddie, what happened to ya?” Richie wanted to step closer, but knew it was best to keep his distance. “Seriously, talk to me.”

Shifting his eyes towards the door and Richie, Eddie finally gave in and opened the door for Richie to come inside. His heart was thumping out of his chest out of fear. Eddie had kept his eyes close on him which made Richie slightly nervous, but he understood why.

Eddie sat down on the edge of the bed with Richie standing right by the door. He didn’t know where to start or how to say it. Guess whatever comes to mind needs to be said.

“A few … minutes ago …. I saw the leper. C-crawling on the floor to me. S-saying such l-lewd things to me. At first I thought it was you behind the door. I heard your voice, but … when I opened the door. You weren’t there. Then, … I saw him …” Eddie said, his body trembling all over again. “His body all rotted …. M-Maggots everywhere. Oh my god.”  Eddie sighed heavily and cupped his face with both of his hands, wanting to go to sleep and forget everything.

Richie frowned, recognizing that this was very serious. As much as he would like to crack a joke to lighten up the mood, Eddie wouldn’t be too thrilled about it. He would’ve probably go off on him and possibly give him the cold shoulder for a while.

“The Leper? That crazed guy with the syphilis? Are you sure?” Richie says calmly, taking a couple cautious steps forward.

“Y-Yes I’m sure! The smell and just …. It was all too real, Richie. It was all real.” Eddie shivered, “He … wanted t--to ……… H--he …..”

“Okay, Okay. You don’t have to say anymore, Ed’s. I get it.” Richie interrupted Eddie.

Richie had to stop Eddie before he could set himself to go under an asthma attack. He was surprised that he wasn’t nearly wheezing when he was in the hallway. Perhaps he has gotten his asthma more under control in the past years that he’s seen him. Eddie always has been so strong even when he was scared. For christ sake, he had Bowers breaking his arm and shoving dirt in his mouth as a youngin’. Even faced his own mother to continue to be with his friends. That was his Eddie. Precious little Eddie.

Richie picked up Eddie’s inhaler off the floor and sat next to him, placing his free hand on his back.

“If it really helps, I’ve seen a lot of crazy stuff too. But y’know, only here in Derry where anything crazy happens. More than usual anyways.” Richie softly scoffed, slightly gripping Eddie’s inhaler.

Eddie lifted his head, turning his head towards Richie.

“What did you see?”

Richie shrugged, fiddling his lower lip with his canines.

“Just things.”

Eddie frowned, really wanting to hear of what Richie had seen. Was it the clown? The werewolf he saw long time ago? What was it?

“Richie …..”

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie’s enthusiastic glow returned, pulling Eddie into a hug. “Right now, I’m worried about you.”

“Richie, please, don’t call me that. You KNOW I hate that.” Eddie groaned, shifting himself closer to Richie while gently nuzzling against the side of his neck. “Besides, I’m fine now.”

The comedian smiled, burying his nose into Eddie’s hair. The faint clean smell of hotel soap filled his nose. The nostalgic scent was also there too. It made his heart flutter. The reminder of just how much he loved Eddie. His little Eddie.

“It … didn’t hurt you, did it?” Richie whispered, huddling him closer.

Eddie hummed shaking his head.

“No, j-just really scared me. That’s all.” He said, closing his eyes.

“Good.” Richie nods, impulsively gives Eddie a peck on the head. “Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?”

Eddie’s eyes shot open, his entire face flushing into a light pink hue. Of course, Richie was far from a stranger to him. A dear friend, but it’s been so long since they’ve ever shared a room together.

Never share your bed, Eddie. You could catch their germs.

His mother’s words echoed in his head. Eddie knew it was all a lie. Al though because of the current outbreak of AIDS, it has been very difficult for him to really trust other people. It was ignorant of him to think, but it was true. Cleanliness and common sense has kept him a peaceful mind along with the pounding advice from his mother.

But just this once he can disobey the rules. Eddie needed the company tonight, just in case The Leper comes back.

“Mmm, I don’t know, Richie. Mother wouldn’t approve of that.” A little grin appears on Eddie’s face.

“Well, she isn’t here now is she?” Richie chuckles, “I take it that’s a yes?”

“Yeah. For old times sake.”