DEFENSES ARE UP. CAN HE BE BLAMED ? to be fair, it was not that long ago that richie was fucking snoring as eddie explained his job and what it entails. a joke, sure, but this can’t end well. lord knows there are plenty of jokes that can be made about eddie and his choice in wife. the hand that comes up does nothing to smooth over the situation, eddie only stares knowingly at richie. “ the fuck does it matter, ” it’s quiet. whispered, mostly for himself. and, the laugh that bubbles out doesn’t necessarily do much to calm the already annoyed male down. exasperated sigh falls through lips mostly because, if he knows richie at all – and he does ! – then this isn’t going to be dropped until eddie answers. “ she asked me. or well, told me i guess. but i was going to do it eventually !! ” he adds that last part in rather quickly. like a disclaimer.
even in their secluded corner of the restaurant, richie barely catches it. he won’t claim to be an excellent lip reader, but it’s eddie. of course he’s going to have something to say. it doesn’t matter, but he still wants to know. he is a sucker for punishment, after all. being a few beers in, he might as well stew in it. eddie wears it well; exasperation etched into the lines of his face. he missed this. him. them. he catches the look beverly sends him. can already sense the beep, beep — so for now, he quiets. he listens. it’s not much of a story. not that he was looking for some elaborate explanation, but it’s still something. it’s more than what he deserves. “ yeah, no. that’s definitely high up there on the romantic scale. good for her. ” he’s hiding it well, right? the bitterness on his tongue. of course he is. “ good for you. ” no joke. no wisecrack. shit. maybe he isn’t hiding it well at all. gotta drink.
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