Who: Richie and Open What: domesticity? Where: Little Asgard When: Saturday morning Open/Ongoing/No warnings yet
Richie woke with a groan, stretching long limbs and rolling over to starfish across the bed. He may have pouted a little bit when he found the other half empty, but it was short-lived. Eddie was often already up and going by the time Richie even woke up, and if he were lucky, it would mean there was already coffee ready and waiting for him. He groped blindly toward the table on Eddie's side of the bed, finding his glasses there (because he fell asleep with them on more often than not and usually found them over there) and pushed them on.
He crawled out of the blankets after a few more minutes, tugging some cotton drawstring pants on over his boxers but forgoing a shirt as he made his way out of the room and to the kitchen. The scars that covered his back and arms were faded now, white and dimpled into his skin rather than angry and red the way he knew the Richie of this time still wore them. He worried for a moment about the younger Ben and Bill, or even his parents, seeing them; he wasn’t so unaware to realize that they still made people who weren’t used to seeing them nervous or uncomfortable. But he decided to go anyway, his desire for caffeine outweighing his nerves about anyone’s reactions.
As he'd hoped, he found a coffee pot warm and waiting and he made himself a cup quickly, leaning his hip into the counter with his eyes shut as he enjoyed the first few sips.