(It's true. Everything was achingly fresh, and Eddie was straddling between what felt real, what felt like some sort of wild fantasy. After the ice cream thing had happened, Eddie had partially convinced himself it was some sort of lucid wet dream. It wouldn't have been the first he'd have of Richie, only he knew by now that if this was some over the top detailed wet dream, he hadn't quite finished it yet. Or woken up.

The mom joke almost catches Eddie off guard. Richie's hand in his was comfortable, and he instinctively slid their fingers together, not thinking about it.)

Wow...(Eddie drawled. Then he reached his hand up to Richie's hair and gave it a short, but firm yank.) You get three mom-fucking jokes in this place and that's your first one. Any past that and I'm kicking your ass.

(No he wasn't, but he still gives another hair yank just to assert his dominance no pun intended???. He lets go, rubbing Richie's head where he had yanked as if to apologize. He hadn't pulled too hard. No harder than when he had been young, anyway. He lowers his hand back down to grab Richie's hand again.)

For that, you're paying. (They had arrived at the place. He pulls the door open and ducks in, releasing Richie's hand with some reluctance as he did. It really didn't seem like that bad of a place, and they manage to get a booth fairly quick. Eddie tucks himself right in next to Richie rather than bothering to sit across from him. That had never changed either, apparently. The waitress at the diner back in Derry used to give Eddie such a funny look for crawling in after Richie when it was just the two of them. Eddie argued diligently that it was because it was just easier to hear when he was on the same side, but of course that argument seemed to not matter as much when he went out to eat with anyone else.

Details, though.)

Buy me a drink. Dealer's choice.